


...And There Was War in Heaven -- (The Book of Revelation 12:7-8)

by MrsHamill



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Background Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 15:42:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 48,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6014644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHamill/pseuds/MrsHamill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Slouching Towards Bethlehem" -- and you really need to read that to understand this one. The Ori have taken Earth and Atlantis needs to figure out how to take her back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	...And There Was War in Heaven -- (The Book of Revelation 12:7-8)

**Author's Note:**

> This is another story that pretty much ate my life. The usual suspects -- Susan, Amireal, Flametirar, Mac -- all helped make this readable, but if it sucks, blame me. There are further notes at the end which detail the chapter and verse of the Bible references.

_Prelude to the Prologue -- Rev. 16:8-9_

* * *

They left the corpse with him in the small, gray, featureless room.

It was still smoking, blackened and hot, and it smelled. It didn't look anything like Jack anymore.

Daniel huddled in the corner farthest from the body and pulled his knees to his chest. He kept his eyes closed because he didn't want to see but he couldn't stop his nose from smelling. Every now and then a sob escaped, though he managed to keep most of them inside. He was glad he hadn't been given anything to eat for... for... however long it had been, because his stomach insisted it wanted to crawl out his gullet.

At least there was no more screaming, though the echoes of it lingered in his head. And all he had to do to remember was to look into the device they had somehow attached to his hand. It showed, in exquisite detail, every time they burned Jack alive, revived him, and burned him again. He could even hear Jack's screams, pleading for death, for mercy, to stop. To stop. To let him die. Daniel kept his eyes closed and his hand as far away from his head as he could but he could still hear it, see it. The pain bubbled beneath his pale, pink skin like the blood had bubbled beneath Jack's blackened skin.

He wasn't sure how long it had been. He might even have dozed, though if he did, he woke instantly. He couldn't stop trembling, maybe because of the cold.

When the door opened he didn't even look up. He thought they'd finally let Jack go but maybe he was wrong, maybe they wanted to revive him again and make him die again...

"Daniel. Daniel. Oh... God..."

It was very hard to open his eyes, but the soft, familiar voice demanded he do so. "Vala?"

A gentle hand on his forehead, cupping his cheek. "What did they do to you?" Vala's voice was thick and filled with pain. "Open your mouth. Open, Daniel. You have to swallow this."

Vala stuck something in his mouth and Daniel swallowed whatever it was, something small and round. He swallowed convulsively, his dry throat clicking. "What... Vala?"

"Is that... we need to get you out of here. Can you stand?" With her help, he stood. "Your clothes, where are your clothes, Daniel?"

He looked down, surprised to find himself naked. "I don't... I don't..."

"It doesn't matter. Come on, we're leaving now." She led him to the door, keeping one warm hand on his arm. "We only need to stay free for another few minutes, make our way to the edge of the ship, then the Daedalus will pick us up. That was a homing beacon you swallowed." She looked carefully up and down the hall before leading him out.

"Vala? Is this a dream?"

"No, Daniel. No." She swallowed hard but kept her weapon up and her other hand on his arm. "This way. Bastards don't have to use flame to light their stupid ships," she muttered, passing one of the wall sconces. Daniel flinched, his mind going to a place where flesh melted under fire, screaming his name. "It's all right, my Daniel, I'll keep you safe. I swear." 

They moved down the hallway carefully, seeing no one. "Vala." It must be Vala, she hadn't hurt him yet. "Jack's dead. He's dead, Vala. And... her. She's gone, Vala. She's not there anymore."

Vala turned and gave him a puzzled look. "Who, Daniel?"

"Adria." Daniel had to struggle to remember her name, his name. "She's gone, now. They ate her."

"She's been gone since I gave birth to her," Vala muttered, her voice angry and bitter.

"Why, mother, how could you say such a thing?"

They both turned and Vala tucked Daniel behind her. "Adria." Could Vala's voice be shaking?

"You have something of mine, mother dear. Give it back. You can't have it."

"We're leaving now, Adria. You can't stop us."

"Yes. We can." 

Daniel began to whimper as he heard the horribly brittle, multi-layered voice which came from Adria's mouth. It was like that before... when Jack... and she... and Daniel... "This should help us, actually, his mind is stronger than we ever thought it could be."

"No," Daniel whined, beginning to hyperventilate. "NO!"

Adria reached out with her hand and the flames began, rippling out from Vala's clothing, hot, scorching, screaming "DANIEL!"

"Vala!" Daniel looked into the beautiful eyes of one of his best friends, and just like Jack's, they melted, poured out of her sockets as her skin blackened and her throat his throat their throats screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed...

The light took him then, a bright white light, then darkness. He liked the darkness, they weren't there. "Where's Vala?" It was warm in the darkness and he was alone, he didn't have to look any longer. "Oh, my God, what did they do to him?" There was no smell. The pain was still there, but he could pull it right out of his skin in the cool, soft darkness. "Daniel?" He concentrated on opening his skin so the pain could drip out. "Daniel? Daniel?!" Drip. Drip.

Drip.

* * *

_Prologue -- Rev. 12:1_  
The real surprise was how anyone managed to keep the party a surprise. Elizabeth had occupied John while Radek got Rodney into a screaming match that ended with them stomping down the hall to Rodney's new quarters, Rodney intent on 'proving something' to Radek. Before they could open the door, John and Elizabeth met them, having just left the transporter. 

Rodney frowned at Elizabeth and then turned the frown on Radek. "You... you're up to something."

John looked confused then mildly alarmed. "Elizabeth..."

"Oh, just get in there," Radek said, opening the door and shoving Rodney inside. 

Laura and Miko had done a lovely job on the apartment. There was a multi-colored banner proclaiming it a surprise housewarming party and balloons, streamers and food everywhere. The room was crowded with people, standing or sitting on mismatched chairs, some still in bandages or with crutches, and all of them yelling surprise in one language or another.

John and Rodney looked at each other for a beat then at the crowd, shaking their heads. "I don't believe you clowns," Rodney said in a rueful voice, but Radek could tell he was pleased. John was easier to read; his wide, happy grin said it all.

The party was perfect. Radek got some food and some alcohol and began to wander from group to group, eavesdropping on and sometimes contributing to conversations. Major Lorne was standing on the balcony with John, talking in low tones. "He's asked me to be his second, and I'd really rather be counted as Lantean, you know?"

"Yeah, I figured you would," John said, nodding to Radek. "But... well. Look at it this way. You work for him and you'll be what, a liaison, liaison...ing -- is that even a word? -- well, whatever, with me more than anything else. We're still going to need SGC in the short run." He grinned. "And we both know where you'll end up, in the end."

"Well, when you put it like that," Lorne said thoughtfully. 

On the other end of the balcony, Elizabeth and Carson were deep in conversation. "I don't see the problem, Carson," she said, smiling at Radek. Her smile always lit the sky, Radek thought.

"It's not that it's a problem, actually," Carson said, sipping his punch. "But I think Laura... well, I think she's going to want... children." Poor Carson, he looked equal parts terrified and elated about that idea. "And it's not like we're stable or even safe here."

"No, but think about it this way: the Athosians have _always_ lived here, in Pegasus. If they had waited to have children when it was safe, they would have died out."

"Point," Carson said, wincing.

"But what is the symbolism?" Teyla asked from her seat just inside the door. Colonel Caldwell was sitting on the sofa, flanked by her, Ronon and Teal'c, along with several others from the Daedalus.

"Jamestown was the oldest free English settlement on the continental United States," Caldwell replied. He looked very good in civilian clothes and healthy, as well. Radek thought he had recovered in more ways than one. Carson had already approached Radek about building a prosthetic leg for Caldwell.

"Ah, and you and Elizabeth and John are all from that country," Teyla said. 

"Yeah," Caldwell said, nodding. "I've actually got a cousin in Virginia, he works for the FBI."

Ronon nodded in understanding as well, then asked, "But then why is McKay always yelling about Halifax?"

"Because McKay is Canadian and it's a city in Canada," Caldwell said, shaking his head. "One of the first or something."

"We could have called it Project Botany Bay," John said, as he passed behind Radek on his way to the food.

Several people in earshot groaned and Teal'c said, "If I am not mistaken, that was a prison colony in Australia. I fail to see..."

Cadman, Simpson and Kusanagi grabbed him. "Radek, are the manufacturing plants free yet?" Cadman said. "We've been waiting for access to fabricate furniture."

"We should have some time free soon," Radek said, nodding. Kusanagi in particular had been nagging him about more materials. "Talk to Patterson, he's been doing some inventory of raw material on hand. And did you speak to the Athosians? There's some wood on the mainland they've had very good luck with."

"Oh, that's right!" Cadman said. "Halling told me he could design..."

"Yeah, we've got several games in the mainframe," Rodney was saying to one of the SGC scientists, Bill Lee. Radek only knew him professionally but had not spent any time with him. "But you've gotta be careful with those sims. And no, we can't load World of Warcraft, too many incompats."

"Damn. I had the new beta version of..."

The door swished open to reveal Colonel Carter, still in a wheelchair but with a large box on her lap, accompanied by Dr. Novak. Colonel Carter looked very tentative and Radek knew she'd been reluctant to show her face since Rodney and John took her down a peg. But Radek liked her, she was very smart, very beautiful, and mostly soft-spoken. He thought that Dr. Novak had probably talked her into coming. 

"Dr. Novak, Colonel Carter," Radek said, nodding and smiling to them in greeting. "It's good to see you again."

"Dr. Zelenka," Colonel Carter said, nodding back. 

"I had to practically drag her here," Dr. Novak said and Colonel Carter frowned at her. "And we bring presents!" she added, loudly. "Mail!"

That got everyone's attention; every head in the room turned. "I'm sorry, in the mess of everything else happening, I'd forgotten that personal mail had been loaded on the Daedalus." Colonel Carter held up the box. "Lindsey helped me retrieve it. Luckily it hadn't been sucked out of the hold." The way she looked at Rodney as she said it made Radek believe she was using it as an excuse to apologize.

Rodney would have been within his rights to keep her from coming, to ask her to leave. Radek had heard what she'd said to him, the week before. And he knew Carter had been avoiding Rodney and John. But Radek knew they would all have to work together in the coming months, and knew that Rodney and Colonel Carter _could_ develop a good working relationship -- perhaps now, as Rodney was involved with John, more than ever.

And there was the part where Radek just wanted everyone to get along better. Rodney was always ridiculing his optimism, but there it was.

Rodney finally smiled crookedly. "Got anything for me?" he asked, and Radek saw how Colonel Carter relaxed. 

"Yeah, actually, from Jeannie. News and baby pictures."

"She sent you _baby pictures_? Give. Now." 

Everyone laughed and she handed him a disk. "We've been talking in email and she sent it to me to see--"

"She's been writing to you?" Rodney asked, incredulous. 

"Yeah, she has," Carter replied. "I like Jeannie, and there are _baby pictures_ , McKay. Oh, and more stuff, some of it personal and no, I didn't look at that."

Rodney scurried off to retrieve his laptop while Dr. Novak and Colonel Carter distributed mail. The box was mostly empty by the time they finished and John took it, storing it in the kitchen until the next day, promising to distribute it as soon as possible to those not present. Rodney came out of the bedroom with his laptop, beaming. "We are so printing this one," he said, and turned the laptop so everyone could see the little blonde girl holding what was evidently her baby brother.

"Is that Madison?" John asked, and everyone in the room gathered around to see the picture.

"He's _huge_!" Cadman said, her eyes admiring.

"Ten pounds, one ounce," Carter said.

"Is that big?" Rodney asked and every female in the room gave him a dirty look. "What? How should I know?"

"We need some of those little magnet thingies, for the fridge, so we can put pictures on it," John said and Rodney rolled his eyes, though he called up another picture for everyone to ooh and ahh over.

"He looks like a little Mongolian assassin," John laughed when he saw a close-up of the baby, who was wearing one of those funny little caps. He certainly was red-faced and puffy-looking.

"I think all babies look like that at first," Dr. Novak said.

"No, they look like Winston Churchill," Lorne said and everyone chuckled. "What's his name?"

"Oh, it's Matthew, after Kaleb's father," Rodney said, opening up the rest of the email. "Hey, this part is compressed and encrypted. What the hell...?"

Conversation started back up as Rodney sat at their little breakfast bar and scrolled through the letter he'd gotten from his sister. Radek was in the process of getting Colonel Carter something to eat and drink when Rodney froze and said, "Oh my God..."

His words fell into a lull in the room and were clearly heard. John frowned and walked to him. "What's wrong?" Rodney had gone pale and when he looked up at John, everyone in the room could see his panic. "Is Jeannie okay? Rodney, what's _wrong_?"

"It's Jeannie," Rodney finally said, his eyes on John. "She's... "

"Rodney, you're scaring us," Radek finally said, moving to stand next to John.

Rodney gave him the same wild-eyed look. "It's Jeannie. She's figured out how to recharge ZedPMs."

* * *

_Part One -- Rev. 1:3_

 

"We currently have four depleted ZedPMs," Rodney said. He was standing at a whiteboard in the main  conference room; it was covered with equations. "As you should know by now and if you don't, I'll find out why, a ZedPM is an artificially created region of subspace which uses quantum foam to extract zero-point energy. What we haven't been able to do is recharge these modules, and actually, I was beginning to suspect we never would be able to. The process is thermodynamically irreversible, after all."

"Of course," John replied, slouching back in his chair. He made sure to keep his grin hidden as he baited Rodney, but he suspected Rodney knew about it anyway.

Rodney gave him a mild glare but continued. "Usually, keeping entropy at maximum is something to be desired, but not in this case. We needed a way to replenish the artificial subspace field within the module itself in order to recharge it. You may remember that one of our empty ZedPMs was depleted when we attempted to extract zero-point energy using a matter bridge to a parallel universe."

"Depleted to save said parallel universe and our parallel selves," John drawled, and Teyla kicked him in the shins. "Ow," he said, affronted.

"Thank you, Teyla," Rodney said, lifting one eyebrow at John.

"Can we cut to the chase here, gentlemen?" Elizabeth asked, rolling her eyes.

"Fine," Rodney said with another glare at John. "My sister -- my brilliant sister -- has adapted her equations we used earlier for the matter bridge into a sort of bridge for artificial subspace in order to capture it within the module. There are some shaky parts to the proof, and it would have been enormously helpful to have Hermiod here to check the equations, but since he bailed on us--"

"I would rather have had him beam to one of the Asgard ships than die on the Daedalus," Caldwell interrupted mildly. "I'd rather have the Asgard on our side than pissed off at us, thank you."

"Be that as it may," Rodney said, "and for whatever reason, we're on our own here. This should work--"

Before John could speak, Elizabeth did. "I don't like that 'should,' Rodney," she said, saying what John was thinking. "What do the odds look like here?"

Rodney grimaced and John narrowed his eyes. "Well..." He sighed, shooting a glance to John that clearly said, _you're not going to like this_. "Better than fifty-fifty, at least."

"Rodney..."

"Okay, okay. Sixty-five to seventy percent. But with the help of Zelenka, Novak and Carter, I think we can improve those odds."

Elizabeth glanced at Novak, Radek and Carter, one eyebrow raised. "I have not had a chance to look at the equations yet," Radek said.

"I've only glanced at them," Carter said, hard on Radek's heels. Novak was nodding vigorously. "But I know Jeannie's work. If she thought this wasn't possible, she wouldn't have sent it."

Rodney smiled and looked smug at Carter's words, but Elizabeth looked like John felt -- incredibly skeptical. "I do not even want an attempt at this until we can boost those odds up to ninety percent," she said. In his head, John thought, ninety-nine percent.

"We might never get them that high!" Rodney protested.

"I'm not risking you -- I'm not risking any of you -- on something that might not work, Rodney," Elizabeth said over Rodney's words. "I want to see a significant increase in the odds before I'll give a go to the project."

"We _need_ those ZedPMs," Rodney objected, but Carter raised her hand and spoke over him.

"This is all moot until we look at the equations," she said. Rodney grudgingly backed down but at least he _did_ back down, and John counted it as a win for detente. "I think the best bet now would be for all four of us to examine the equations separately then meet for a brainstorming session."

"Yes, yes," Radek said, and John had to hide a grin. He'd thought Radek was crushing on Elizabeth, but it seemed any strong woman would catch the guy's eye. "I concur. It is better that way."

"This could be the first joint SGC/Atlantis project," Elizabeth said, giving Caldwell a smile. "Well, that doesn't have to do with the Daedalus."

He nodded back, looking intrigued. "I don't have much of a physics background, but I'd like to be included in that brainstorming session."

"I would, as well," Elizabeth said. "Rodney, I'm giving you ownership of this project. Please keep me in the loop on your progress." 

Rodney nodded and sighed. John looked down at the table to hide his grin. He was going to have to keep an eye on this one too. He knew the way to Radek's brain and figured he could make sure he knew the full scoop via bribery.

"Speaking of the Daedalus, the repairs to it are next on our agenda. That means you again, Rodney, along with Dr. Novak."

Novak stood and walked around the table to join Rodney at the large display. As she did, Rodney changed it to show a schematic of the Daedalus and launched into techno-babble. John plastered on his 'yes, I am listening, really' face and tuned it out. He knew most of it anyway, just from hearing Rodney bitch about it.

Rodney. Who was now living with John. They were Shacking Up, Living In Sin, official Significant Others and even after two plus weeks, it still stunned John at times. He had begun to believe he would never have a long-term, serious relationship with anybody, much less the only impolite person in Canada. But things had changed. 

Hell, things had _really_ changed, more than he could believe at times. He'd been having meetings with Elizabeth and Caldwell on the division of manpower and they'd pretty much determined that just over a third of the military (all countries, air force as well as ground) wanted to be considered a part of the Atlantis Home Guard, a name he could pretty much tolerate. Caldwell had been surprisingly easy-going about it; they'd drawn up orders for when they finally returned to Earth and decided how they would share the discipline and up-keep of the troops.

"We don't even know if we're going to have the damn ZPMs yet, and yes, I think we will, but what if it takes longer than estimated? We really need to do the retrofit regardless," Carter was saying, arguing with Rodney again. At least this time it was civil -- thank God for small favors that they'd buried the hatchet between them, and not in each other. John tuned it out again.

There was still some shake-down going on, but for the most part the two camps had been chosen, the lines drawn in the sand. Amusingly enough, most of the 'Atlantis' people joined John and Rodney in the north residence tower, while those who still wanted to be considered from Earth or as SGC personnel remained in the command tower, in the smaller quarters John and Rodney used to have. It wasn't really important, the mixing and mingling was still happening. John had a bet with Rodney that more scientists than military would end up staying SGC.

And Rodney had a bet with him on who would be the first to get pregnant. Rodney had kids on the brain lately, for some reason that probably involved him being an uncle again.

"...Make an executive decision," Elizabeth was saying over Carter and Rodney's on-going argument. He saw her check with Caldwell, who frowned but nodded. "The reactor retrofit is now on hold until all four of you have had a chance to study Mrs. Miller's equations, therefore after the brainstorming session. After that, we'll make a determination whether to proceed or wait for the ZPM."

It was a good compromise; both Rodney and Carter looked disgruntled over it.

"Moving along," Elizabeth said pointedly, "the last thing we need to discuss is Dr. Jackson. Commander Sheppard had a couple of ideas about that. John?"

Commander Sheppard. Damn, it was still hard to get used to that. Rodney, taking his seat next to John smirked at him as if he knew exactly what John was thinking, and he probably did, the rat. John took a deep breath. "I've tried reaching that Morgan Le Fey woman who had been haunting the holoroom, but no go. Rodney had been studying the power levels and there's been nothing unusual. So I think we can count her out, for whatever reason."

"Daniel thought she might be on their blacklist, under guard," Carter said. "I hope they didn't kill her."

"I'm not going to put anything past those bastards," Rodney growled and Carter nodded -- at least on that topic, they had a meeting of the minds.

"So the only ascended Ancient we know of, the only one accessible, is Chaya, on Proculus. She probably can't help us, but there's no sense in not trying." John carefully did not look at Rodney as he spoke. They'd been over that several times and Rodney was still maintaining it didn't bother him. John was just waiting for the explosion.

Everyone at the table was nodding, but it was Elizabeth who spoke. "I think you might be right on both counts, John. When would you want to go?"

"Well, this afternoon, unless there's something else pressing," John said, thinking he wanted to get it over with. 

"Teyla, could you accompany him?" Elizabeth asked and Teyla inclined her head in agreement. "And Carson, too. You have the most information on Dr. Jackson's prognosis."

"Aye," Carson said, nodding. "I'll need to rearrange schedules a bit. I'll radio you, John."

"I'll be going as well," Rodney interjected mildly.

"Wouldn't dream of excluding you," John replied. 

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Please, Rodney, make sure you don't antagonize her too much?"

"I'll be the soul of diplomacy," Rodney replied and John almost killed himself keeping the snort inside.

It looked as though no one else at the table believed _that_ , but no one was stupid enough to say it aloud. "On that note, then, dismissed," Elizabeth said. People got to their feet and gathered up belongings, heading for the door. "Oh, John, Rodney, Steven and Sam, could you stick around,  please? I've got something to go over with you."

Elizabeth was being too casual, which usually meant something bad was happening or would happen. John was just rising as she spoke; he slowly regained his seat, looking at Rodney with mild alarm. Caldwell hadn't moved at all, which led John to believe he knew what was coming.

She waited until the doors to the conference room were closed before leaning forward, resting her forearms on the table in front of her. "We are having this conversation in private because I do not want it to be discussed outside this room or with anyone but us. That includes Carson." She sighed. "Especially Carson. It has come to my attention from Sam that the Hoffan virus samples we sent to Earth three years ago have been adjusted by the SGC in some way. Sam?"

Carter nodded, her face grave. "Dr. Ling, who managed to get out of the mountain before it... was destroyed, had been tweaking the virus. We -- meaning SG1 -- didn't know she was still experimenting on the samples. Apparently, it hadn't been given very high priority so it was a project almost on her own time." Carter stopped and looked down at her hands which were twisted together in her lap. "She's... well, I guess you could say she's perfected it. When we arrived, after everything was sorted out, she came to me to let me know. She's developed a terror of the Wraith, it turns out and she's willing to do whatever it takes to eliminate them." John was becoming increasingly alarmed over her obvious discomfort. "She's made the virus hardier, easier to contract, and it can be deployed from a distance. It's one hundred percent effective, in lab trials."

"And it killed the Hoffans, too!" John said, keeping from shouting by the skin of his teeth. What the _hell_ could she be implying?

"Yes. And it still kills humans at a rate of about 36%," Elizabeth replied, "though I'm led to believe that's theoretical." Her voice was cold and inflectionless. "But it kills Wraith. All the Wraith, or so she believes; we don't know about the queens."

"Tell me you're not thinking about this," Rodney said. "Elizabeth, this is..."

"Genocide. Yes, it is." 

John couldn't look at Rodney, not and maintain his precarious calm. "How can you--"

"Very easily, John," Elizabeth interrupted, her voice still flat and without emotion. "We've been heading this way for a long time. Carson's retrovirus -- he didn't want to exterminate Wraith, he wanted to 'fix' them. Now, I'm thinking about the lesson Michael taught us. There's nothing _to_ fix. Therefore..."

"Therefore we turn around and act like _Nazis?_ " Rodney said, his voice almost shrill.

"That is an invalid comparison!" Elizabeth replied, her voice finally cracking. "This is an entirely different situation and you and I both know it!"

"No, I'm going to have to agree with Dr. McKay on this," Caldwell said, and John looked at him in surprise. He wasn't looking at anyone; his eyes were focused on the table in front of him. "Do we really want to be responsible for genocide?"

"Two points," Elizabeth said. "First: we have to deal with the Ori, sooner rather than later, and it's not good military practice to leave oneself open on two fronts. We cannot fight for Earth knowing that the Wraith could hit us at any time from this end. Second..." She took a deep breath. "There is no _we_ here. I will not ask any of you to condone or condemn the use of this virus. If I decide to go with it, it'll be _my_ decision alone. I will not put anyone else's head on the chopping block."

It felt like every muscle in John's body clenched at once. He leapt to his feet and strode to the back wall of the conference room, wondering how many bones he would break if he hit the wall.

"The very fact that you're saying it the way you are means you know what will happen, what the repercussions will be once we free Earth," Rodney said stridently. John wouldn't turn; he kept alternating from bouncing on his toes to pacing, wishing he had something to hit, something to kill besides Elizabeth.

"Rodney's right," Carter said, her voice shaking slightly. She made a frustrated noise. "I had a feeling I should have just told Mai to go to hell. I understand what you're doing here but it's wrong. The decision to go with this virus cannot be put on one head alone."

"Yes, it can, and no, I will not reconsider." There was silence for a long moment. "John, please sit back down."

John breathed deeply, trying to calm, thinking about Teyla and her soothing practices. Finally, he was able to turn. "I can't condone genocide, Elizabeth." He sat down, still breathing deeply but his fists wouldn't unclench. He looked at Elizabeth straight-on. "I know there must be a better path to follow, a military solution." He glanced at Caldwell who nodded, just slightly, not looking up. "But more than that, I _will not_ allow you to take all the blame if we go there anyway."

"I won't either," Caldwell said. His head came up and his gaze met John's; John could tell they were on the same page. 

Elizabeth sighed. "This is non-negotiable. I didn't keep you here to ask for your support or censure, I merely wanted your feelings on the matter. In the end, however, it will be _my_ decision."

"And how are you going to carry out that decision if we don't cooperate?" Rodney's voice was shaking as much as Carter's. "You don't have the gene, Elizabeth, you can't fly a jumper."

"Rodney," Elizabeth pinched the bridge of her nose. "You know as well as I do that there are ways to get around those strictures. Look. It appears we may have the means to eliminate the threat of the Wraith. You all know we've been moving toward the idea of genocide, especially since Carson's retrovirus didn't work effectively -- we just didn't like to admit it." She paused and looked at all of them, one after the other. "You cannot sit there and tell me you don't want to eliminate the Wraith, because if you did? I'd know you'd be lying."

"But..." as Rodney spoke, John glanced at him; he almost looked like he wanted to cry. "Not this way...!"

"It's this or a protracted, bloody war of attrition, Rodney. I'm sorry." Elizabeth even sounded slightly apologetic, but she also sounded firm and as if her mind was made up. "I would like to propose a trial. We have the perfect place to test this -- M6H-491."

"Three hives, yes, I know," John said. "They should all be there still."

"I propose sending a cloaked jumper through the gate and seeding the atmosphere with the virus," Elizabeth said. "From her notes, Dr. Ling believes it will reach maximum efficacy within three days. The virus is spread through the air and by touch. We would have to be very careful to wear biohazard suits at all times. We could check back in five days to see what happened."

Now John felt like _he_ wanted to cry. "Dr. Weir," Caldwell said, and John's head turned at the frosty tone of his voice, "personally, I cannot and will not condone this, not even as someone whose homeworld is under enemy control. From a military standpoint, however," Caldwell stopped and coughed, then took a deep breath. "From a military standpoint, the idea has merit. As military head of the SGC in absentia, I am willing to go along with the trial."

_From a military standpoint._ Well, yeah, if you wanted to go the Nazi route. Part of John was clamoring for him to agree, because there was a huge chunk of him who hated the Wraith with a passion that was almost frightening. He knew what Ronon, what Teyla would say but he wasn't born in Pegasus. He knew there had to be a more military path to take, even if it was the war of attrition Elizabeth alluded to. Christ, his head hurt.

"I don't like it," Rodney muttered. Carter met his gaze across the table and she nodded, agreeing with him. But in her eyes John saw the same ambivalence he felt, and he knew Rodney felt the same. When did hatred of the Wraith morph into a willingness to commit genocide?

"Colonel Caldwell is correct," he finally said, and his voice sounded strained to his ears. "And I agree with his assessment. However," he added, glaring at Elizabeth so hard she blinked in surprise, "I will _not_ agree to allowing you to take all the fall for this. It's all of us or none of us, Dr. Weir, and _that's_ non-negotiable."

She finally looked away from him, swallowing. "We can talk about it in further detail after the trial. I don't have to remind you not to mention this to anyone else."

There was silence around the table, each of them lost in thought. John finally decided he could stand without falling over so he did, ignoring everyone else present. In leaving, he made sure to walk on the side of the table opposite from Elizabeth's seat.

* * *

Rodney caught up with John in the jumper bay about an hour later. John hadn't been to lunch and Rodney didn't really want to eat either -- his stomach was not happy with the meeting he'd left. He ended up eating a Powerbar with some coffee to wash it down.

John was in Jumper One. From the outside, it sounded like he was ripping pieces off the jumper itself and tossing them around. Rodney peeked around the corner of the entrance to make sure it was safe to enter. John was in the process of emptying every storage bin and had an incredible amount of things piled up in the middle of the aft section. "Garage sale?" Rodney asked, leaning on the hatch and crossing his arms.

"Been meaning to do this for a while," John muttered, crossing to the aft compartments. "Too much shit we don't use taking up too much space we could."

And it gave him a convenient outlet for his anger and frustration, Rodney surmised. He felt pretty much the same way -- yelling at underlings didn't have quite the same cachet as physically abusing something. "Did Carson reach you? He said fourteen-thirty would be good."

"Yeah. This'll be done by then."

"Let me help?"

John sighed and scrubbed his knuckles on the top of his head. "Yeah, okay." Then as Rodney started sorting -- yeah, there was an awful lot of shit there -- he added, "What, you've got nothing better to do?"

"Nothing my mind would let me concentrate on," Rodney muttered, tossing an MRE package which had definitely seen better days into his new 'garbage' pile.

They worked together in silence for a while, Rodney finding it actually soothing. Finally John emptied the last of the storage compartments and joined him in sorting. "This your garbage pile, I take it?" John asked and Rodney nodded, grimacing over the odor coming from one sack of... something. Not worth saving, really.

John threw something on top the garbage pile with a muttered expletive. Rodney raised an eyebrow. "Commander?" he drawled. Aside from the ridiculous hair, how often Commander Sheppard used cuss words was an excellent way to judge his mood. 

"Meredith?" John shot back. 

"You know why she's doing this," Rodney said, but John cut him off.

"I don't give a flying fuck why she's doing this. I just don't..."

"None of us want to. I think that's part of the point." 

"There has to be another way, a military path to take." 

"We've all thought that, for more than three damn years we've thought that, hell, we've been _doing_ that. What if she's right?"

John just stared at him, his jaw working. Rodney knew he looked pretty much the same as Rodney did, pale and angry.

"Right on what topic?" Teyla said, startling them both.

"Nothing, nothing," John said. "Is it fourteen-thirty yet? Christ."

"Not quite. What are you doing?" Teyla asked, looking around with a raised eyebrow.

"Garage sale," Rodney said, rolling his eyes up. "This pile is trash... I'll go get a container and something to shovel with."

With Teyla's help they were finished with the jumper-cleaning before their time limit. John stowed the  useful items back into the Jumper and was adding a few more things when Carson arrived, out of breath.

"I'm sorry, am I late?"

"No, you are right on time, Carson," Teyla said with a warm smile. John just grunted and slammed the last compartment closed. Teyla looked at Rodney with a frown; he just shrugged and looked away. Thing was, he knew what Teyla would say if she knew Elizabeth's plan and knowing that didn't help one bit -- in fact, it made the decision harder.

"Teyla, you're shotgun," John said, strapping into the pilot's seat. "Flight, this is Sheppard. Permission for 'gate access."

"This is flight," Campbell's voice came through their radios. "Dialing the gate now. You are go for launch."

John didn't speak again until they were down, near Chaya's mountain. Teyla and Carson spent the trip reminiscing about Chaya, and Teyla described her 'temple of Athar' for Carson. Rodney stayed as silent as John, afraid to say anything. He knew he was a terrible liar. What Elizabeth had proposed would make every word he spoke to Carson a lie of omission.

Proculus was as beautiful as always. Almost empty -- what a waste of resources! The planet could harbor so  many people in freedom from the Wraith, but that 'wasn't allowed'. Once again, Rodney felt almost overwhelming anger at the Ancients who had ascended and cut all ties with their descendants. Damn elitist assholes.

From their landing site, it was a ten minute walk to Chaya's home, the Temple of Athar. She was there, of course, and waiting for them, a table already set for five just behind her. "Welcome back, John," she said with a warm smile. Rodney fought to keep the surge of jealousy he felt down. "Teyla Emmagan. It is good to see you again, and you, Dr. Beckett."

"Carson, please, love," Carson said, matching her smile.

"And Dr. McKay." Oddly enough, she didn't seem angry at him any longer. Her face only showed something like wry amusement.

"Chaya," Rodney said, proud his voice didn't convey his jealousy or his testiness. It wasn't anger, he would deny that to his dying day, it was just... testiness. He was still a little peeved at her that she'd tricked them.

"I know why you are here, of course," she continued. Her face became set but her eyes were definitely sad and she wouldn't look at John. "I'm afraid I have been specifically forbidden to discuss Daniel Jackson with you." She looked down at the ground; her hands were clasped loosely in front of her.

"What?" John turned and looked Rodney, confused.

"I am on a tight rein, John." Finally her eyes came back up; she focused on Rodney, to his surprise. "Why do you think the Wraith suddenly attacked Proculus while I was away?"

After a second to let that thought sink in, John turned and stomped away. Rodney knew his reaction well, it meant John was angry enough to hurt things and he didn't want to show it, didn't want to accidentally carry out his impulse. He didn't go far, though, staying within her home. "I am sorry," Chaya said sadly.

"They _forbid_ you?" Rodney felt almost as angry as John; next to him, he heard both Teyla and Carson object as well.

Again, Chaya looked directly at Rodney. "Yes. I have been specifically forbidden to discuss Daniel Jackson with you," she said again, slowly and clearly and Rodney's brain went 'DING!'

Rodney turned and grabbed John's jacket. "Let's all sit down and have some of the tea that Chaya has made for us," he said, yanking John back. "And we can _chat_."

"What good is it going to do, McKay?" John hissed as Rodney tugged him to the table.

"Siddown and shut up a minute," Rodney whispered, grinning. It felt good to be on the other end of that request for a change. "I think I know what to do." 

Rodney sat and grinned at Chaya, who smiled back with a nod. She poured them tea and gave them little cakes to eat. "Tell me, how fares Atlantis?" she asked as she served them.

"Fine," Rodney replied airily. "We're all quite well. Of course, with the Ori having conquered Earth, we've got a lot of refugees. But we're working on ways to figure that out, get Earth back."

"Ah, that's good." 

"Tell me, do you know of the Ori?" Rodney asked and he felt John straighten in his chair next to him. 

"Yes, I do," Chaya replied, serving herself. "I am so very sorry that Earth has fallen."

"So are we," Rodney replied, sipping his tea. John, Carson and Teyla all appeared to be dumbfounded, staring at him like he'd grown a second head or something. "What is with the Ori, anyway? We know they're ascended, but so are you. What's the difference?"

"Ascension is not necessarily only for good people," she said, copying his tone of nonchalance. "I believe you are aware of that."

"Anubis," Rodney growled. That was one ugly bastard. "Wasn't he killed by... what was her name, Oma something?" He knew quite well who Oma Desala had been and Chaya's expression told him she knew he knew. "Did you know her before she died?"

"I _know_ Oma Desala, though not well," Chaya said, then paused and frowned. "I am also not to discuss Oma Desala with you. Nor Ganas Lal, whom you know better as Morgan le Fey." She made a frustrated sound and looked at Rodney, her eyes sad.

"Then what the hell good--" John burst out and Rodney put his hand on John's thigh, squeezing hard.

"We understand," Rodney said, though he felt the same frustration John did. "Tell us more about ascension. When did you ascend? Did you live on Atlantis?"

While John fumed and Teyla and Carson sat like stunned bunnies, Rodney and Chaya began a lovely conversation. Rodney continued to ask questions and her careful answers -- her body language telling him more than her mouth ever could -- delineated what she could tell them from what she couldn't, directing his thoughts accordingly.  

"I was quite young, at least, in terms of ascension," she said. "You must understand that ascension was -- I mean, is -- thought to be the way to elevate to the next level of being. Once one ascends, one is expected to give up all ties to the material plane, since nothing more is needed or wanted."

"All the cool kids do it, eh?" Rodney said, drumming his fingers against his thigh. "But you... you're different."

She inclined her head in acknowledgement. "And for that difference, I am punished."

"You do not think the same as other Ancients, correct?" Teyla asked, looking between Rodney and Chaya. Rodney should have known she'd get it sooner than anyone else.

"Not... entirely." Chaya sighed. "When I ascended, the Wraith had just begun to spread in the galaxy. I was among many who decided the best path to deal with them was to ascend."

"That's not dealing," John growled. He had his arms crossed in front of his chest and was scowling at the table.

"I know that, now." The simple agreement apparently went a long way towards calming John down. "Though there are others who do not agree and believe they are on the right path by adhering to strict non-interference."

"So the ascended are broken into camps, which is what we've believed all along," Rodney said, a little too loudly. "And you're of the camp that you should actually _help_ your children, your descendants, _us_ , rather than let us hang out to dry."

Chaya had a tight smile for him. "Yes. The eldest of us have had the most say, and they are of the mind that there is nothing worse than interference. They point to the Ori as an example."

"The eldest of you," Rodney repeated with a frown. "How long does an ascended being live, anyway? Is it forever?"

She gave him a look he couldn't decipher. "The Ori are a group mind, you knew that, correct?"

Rodney turned to look at John, whose mouth had fallen open. "Uh..."

"Yes," Rodney said. "Actually, I'd... inferred that from mission reports," which was a blatant lie since he was nowhere near caught up in regards to the Ori. "I knew we should have brought Carter with us," he muttered.

"What is a group mind?" Teyla asked.

"It is many minds joined together as one, all acting in concert together," Chaya replied. "Though they are now melded into one, certain individual minds among the Ori are the oldest in the universe."

"As old as the Ancients," Carson said, frowning.

Again, Chaya looked at Rodney; she appeared to be thinking about how to say what she wanted to say.

"As old as you, for example," Rodney said, realizing he had a good idea what she was going to say.

"I am not what you call an Ancient," Chaya said quietly. "There are no longer any on the ascended plane who were once of Altera, aside from the Ori."

"Wait wait wait..." Rodney said, the answers he needed just out of reach -- he could almost feel them. "The Ori need worshippers to survive, we know this, right?" He looked at John for confirmation -- John nodded slowly. "If there are no more Ancients on the plane or whatever it is, that means they've... died."

"One cannot die once one is ascended," Chaya said, and thank heavens Rodney was looking at her as she spoke or he would have missed the brief snarl of rage which flashed across her face.

"That's a lie, isn't it," Rodney asked softly.

She closed her eyes briefly before responding. "Yes and no. To be ascended means to leave all upon the material plane behind. That includes death as well as wants and needs."

"Oh, my God," Carson breathed. "You canna die, you just, what? Fade away? Unless you find a new source of energy to keep you going. Like the Ori have."

Chaya didn't answer. Her gaze was focused on the table in front of her. The fragile cup on the saucer near her right hand rattled for a few moments then was still.

"Contemplating your navel for eons doesn't mean immortality." It shouldn't have been as much of a surprise as it was, Rodney reflected. The answer was there all along, they just didn't know the right questions to ask. 

"Then what Goddamned difference does it make? Why are those remnants of the so-called Ancients still practicing non-interference with their fucking heads up their asses?" John shouted, and Rodney squeezed his leg again. John didn't get angry often, but when he did, he went full-bore.

Chaya looked at John, her face reflecting her sorrow, her frustration. "There have been those who believed otherwise, aside from me," she said.

"And you can't say who, but I've got a pretty good idea," Rodney snapped. "The guy who called himself Merlin. Oma Desala. That le Fey woman who was haunting the holoroom. There are probably a few others, and I'm sure Jackson tried his damnedest to get them to see their own stupidity while he was with them."

She looked down again, not meeting his eyes. They were all silent for a long moment, thinking.

"My people have worshipped the Ancestors, the Ancients, for as long as our history has been recorded," Teyla said. Rodney stared at her; he'd seen Teyla angry before, but never like this. She was beyond anger and well into blazing fury, though someone not close to her wouldn't have noticed. "Over the past few years, I have slowly come to realize that these are beings who are not worthy of either worship or admiration. My people will no longer follow their path. If you are able, please express that thought to those who have cultivated this hateful philosophy."

Chaya reached out and put her hand over Teyla's. "It has been conveyed. I am most sorry, Teyla Emmagan."

"Not that it'll do much good," John muttered. 

Rodney suspected they'd been given all they could give without risking further punishment for Chaya, so he merely nodded and rose. "Thank you, Chaya, for all you could say and all you couldn't."

Chaya rose with the rest of them. She reached out her hands and Rodney took them in both of his, wondering how the hell he'd ever disliked her. She really wasn't bad. In a lot of ways, her ideology was similar to John's -- leave nobody behind to fend for themselves. "Thank you for coming, Dr. McKay. I am glad you both finally found what you needed." She turned and bowed her head to Teyla; after a moment, Teyla bowed as well, touching their foreheads. "I am sorry," she whispered, and Teyla nodded shortly. 

"Carson, John," she said, taking their hands briefly. "Please, come by to visit every now and then. Know that I will help you as much as I am allowed." 

It was a short, quiet walk back to the jumper. John hadn't really been able to say anything to Chaya, and Rodney thought that had hurt her. But he also knew how John felt. The kind of anger that roiled in John was hard to get rid of.

Just before they made it to the jumper, a slightly familiar woman stepped out of the trees to their path. "Teer?" John said, incredulous.

"Why are you doing this, John?" she asked. 

Rodney was confused. "Who is she?" he asked Teyla.

"Do you not remember her from that place where time slowed?" Teyla asked, her voice soft.

"What? What the hell is she here for?" Rodney hissed back.

"Get out of my way, Teer," John was saying.

"Ascension is the path you need to take, John," Teer replied. "Come with me, join us. There is no reason to fight on the ascended plane."

"No, but there's plenty reason here," John snapped. "If you want to turn your back on everyone else, fine, go ahead, have a blast. I'm staying here and fighting, not just for me, but for all the others who can't fight and who you won't defend." He was almost snarling and Teer looked taken aback. "You haven't changed. You're all damn cowards, each and every one of you. Run away from your problems, Teer, and get out of my way."

"That's not what--"

Ignoring her, John sidestepped and walked away, heading for the jumper.

"But..."

Rodney stopped in front of her, looked her up and down. "Looks like cowardice is the same on both planes. Interesting, isn't it? Tell your new playmates that we'll be here, cleaning up their messes, as usual. But once we're done, they might want to watch out. Oh, and forget John. He's taken." Not letting her reply, Rodney continued his way to the jumper and home.

So what if he was being petty -- she'd started it.

* * *

"So, Oma Desala is alive," Sam said, wincing as she lifted her leg off the treatment bed on which she was reclining. "And Daniel was right about her fight with Anubis."

"Looks like it," Rodney replied, grimacing in what looked like sympathy. "I think we can agree that ascended beings can be 'killed,' but I don't think they actually 'die', not in the way we think about it."

"Just fade away, huh?" Leg lifts were an exercise in torture, she decided, her knee -- hell, her entire _leg_ \-- was throbbing and it felt like it was on fire. "And the Ori are a group mind. Hmm." 

"It makes me wonder about the Priors," Elizabeth said, nodding. Rodney had come to the infirmary with Elizabeth in tow, saying it was easier to debrief two at once than to go through the whole thing twice or more.

"You know the most, though, we should have taken you with us instead of Carson. She wouldn't talk about Jackson at all," Rodney said, obviously frustrated.

"Damn." 

"Yeah. I'm sorry, Carter."

"Not your fault, McKay." Five more and she could just allow herself to pass out. Not. "What else would she talk to you about?"

McKay nattering made a good distraction, Sam decided. Since she needed to know the information as well, it was easier to ignore how much pain she was in. Dr. Beckett had warned her it was going to be a hard trip back to normal, and she really believed him now.

"So, this Teer," she said, collapsing back to the bed and wiping the sweat off her face, "she's ascended too?"

"Yeah, one of Sheppard's harem of ascended chicks," Rodney said and Elizabeth gave him an incredulous look. "What? He's got a thing for them, I think."

"I do not." And there was Sheppard; all she needed was Teal'c watching her sweat and groan to make the whole physical therapy experience ideal. "She wanted to try and talk me into ascending again," Sheppard added. "Not going to happen, especially now." 

"I have to admit, the Ancients are losing what little respect I had for them," Elizabeth said. 

"I'm way ahead of you on that," Sam said. "I need to get up and move to the next torture device."

"Let me help," Rodney said, surprisingly. Sam was almost taken aback -- Rodney in particular had every reason to hate her yet here he was, helping her off the table, taking the bulk of her weight on his big shoulders. So much for her thinking he was completely self-centered.

And there stood Sheppard, who was living with McKay, which had been an enormous shock for her. She'd had no idea McKay swung both ways -- from the way he panted after everything capable of wearing a skirt she figured him for perfectly straight. And Sheppard too, though she didn't know him as well as she'd like to. Cam had liked him, though. No, Cam _liked_ him. She wasn't nearly ready enough to lose another friend.

The recumbent bike was not to regulation, in fact, it was not much more than a cobbled-together piece of junk. It did the job, though, which in her case was to make her knee move and drive her insane. She set the timer for five minutes and got to it; no sense postponing torture.

"You know what I don't get?" she said, gripping her seat until her fingernails began to bend back -- a  little pain to distract her from the big one. "If the Ori are a group mind, a hive mind, then what's to keep those ascended who are on our side from forming their own group mind and helping us?"

She watched the thought go through her audience, as each of them blinked in comprehension. "That's... a very good question," Elizabeth said with a frown. 

"Here's a better one," Rodney said, leaning back against Sheppard. "The ascended assholes -- sorry, _Ancients_ \-- have a strict non-interference policy, yes? They 'punish' those who have the balls to interfere. So, why aren't they punishing the Ori for interfering?"

"Old question, McKay," Sam said, already breathless and she'd just begun. "Daniel..." She had to stop and close her eyes for a minute. Daniel. And Jack and Vala. "Daniel said the Ori originally came to the Milky Way to kill the ascended Ancients. Why, we're not sure, except it may involve some bizarre religious tenet. So they must have a method of killing them, which implies the Ancients also have a method of protecting or defending themselves. Perhaps they're at the same level of technology or something."

"That doesn't make sense," Sheppard said.

"No, it does not." And there was Teal'c. Lovely. Maybe she should sell tickets for her daily PT session. "Daniel Jackson acknowledged that fact, but he was unable to discern any other reason. Though we had speculated that the Ori believe the Ancients were being worshipped as the Ori were, therefore cutting them off from their base of energy would seem to be a viable strategy for the Ori."

"But the Ancients weren't -- I mean, aren't -- being worshipped the way the Ori are," Sheppard said, and Sam recognized the confusion and frustration on his face, it was the same as she felt.

Rodney suddenly stiffened. "Wait." Everyone turned to him. "Inference from what Chaya said -- the Ori are now the oldest beings in the universe, yes?"

Startled, Sam pushed a little harder with her leg and she winced. "It can't be that simple."

"What?" Sheppard, as well as Elizabeth and Teal'c, were looking between Sam and Rodney.

"That the younger ascended beings can't kill those older than themselves." Rodney looked right at Sam as he spoke, his eyes practically begging her to disagree. "Didn't Jackson try and fail to kill Anubis?"

"But that was the Others stopping him... wasn't it?" Sam looked up at Teal'c for confirmation. She wasn't quite sure who she was trying to convince. "Maybe it's just the hive-mind concept? That they can't destroy such a structure?" Sam continued. "Both ideas are patently ridiculous."

"But applying Occam's Razor..."

Sam sighed. "Yeah." She kept pedaling, barely aware of the pain her brain was so occupied. "But that's not right, that can't be right. Oma Desala told Daniel she was an Ancient, which implies from Altera. Doesn't it?" Again, she looked up at Teal'c. "Didn't Daniel say that she was an Ancient?"

Teal'c frowned at her for a moment, obviously thinking -- it had been quite a while ago. "Yes, he did. But he also said that _he_ was an Ancient, by means of his ascending," he said, still frowning.

"You're the closest we have to an expert on Ancients," Elizabeth said, but Sam shook her head and interrupted her. 

"I'm not, Daniel is." She sighed. "Was. Is." She gritted her teeth and tried to push her sadness away. "The Alterans ascended or moved to Pegasus to avoid the plague; the ones they left behind perished. So we've been told. Now I'm beginning to wonder if there was any truth in anything any of them said."

"They're afraid," Rodney said, his voice nearly a whisper and she could almost see his thought processes. "There's something, something about us, something we know or can do or..."

"Thor said we, said the Tau'ri could some day be as great... It has to be Merlin's weapon," Sam said, shaking her head, hoping to jar loose some other ideas. "It doesn't make sense, but that's got to be it. Somehow, the idea of one of us using Merlin's weapon has them spooked. Maybe we're the only ones who _can_ use it. It's supposed to be a way to kill _any_ ascended being, I know we were told that."

"Old or young or a part of a collective mind." Rodney nodded, with a frustrated sigh. "You're right, that has to be it."

"But where does that leave us?" Sheppard asked. He looked almost as angry as he had in the earlier meeting. "Does that help us at all?"

"Well..." Rodney frowned and began to pace. "We can narrow it down, maybe. Sam, you said the weapon wasn't, what, real?"

"It wasn't something you could pick up and use, like a gun," she affirmed.

"When the Ori had Jackson, they didn't kill him, though they could have. Why didn't they?"

Sam's mind began to tear off down different pathways. She hadn't wanted to think about what had happened to Daniel, but now, perhaps, she should. "They killed Gen-- Jack." She swallowed the pain down. "Several times. You've seen the recording."

A warm hand fell on her shoulder; Teal'c. She nodded up at him in gratitude.

"Right. I think I can make the same intuitive leap you made in saying that somehow, Jackson _is_ the weapon, that it's affected his mind in some way."

"Yes. That was my thought and maybe even his. If the weapon was somehow in his mind, they would want to drive him insane. Which they did."

"Right. Right. But if they were still afraid of him, they'd be knocking on our doorstep now, ready to actually kill him. Or they would have killed him before you got him off that Ori mothership. Right?"

Wait a minute. Sam stopped pedaling and looked down, going over the situation again. "And they're not," she murmured.

"So the weapon has to be something that Jackson must be sane to use." Rodney suddenly stopped pacing and froze. "Or has to ascend to use."

Sam looked at him, her eyes wide. She'd made that jump just as he had. "Daniel has to be sane to ascend... no. If they had killed him, he might..."

"Oh, my God," Elizabeth whispered.

"That has to be it," Sam said and Rodney nodded rapidly. "But we can't..."

"Can he ascend at all, without dying? Without being in sane mind?" Teal'c said, and Sam was gratified to hear the slight waver in his voice that she felt in her mind. "If it must be a conscious, deliberate--"

"Sane," Rodney interjected and Teal'c nodded.

"A sane choice. At death. The Ancients have helped others ascend but they were always on the brink of death. Once Daniel Jackson is on the same plane of existence," Teal'c continued, implacably, "he will be able to use the weapon against the Ori." 

"Whatever it is," Sam finished, nodding at Rodney who looked about as shell-shocked as she felt.

"Then it behooves us to work with Daniel Jackson, to attempt to return him to sanity. Either that or kill him in the hope he would ascend, which I believe is not a viable choice." Teal'c had a way of saying impossible, horrible things so they sounded easy.

The timer on the recumbent bike beeped and Sam sighed. "You didn't see me blow off the last couple of minutes on this," she said to her audience.

Teal'c bent and helped her rise. "You have been pedaling for the entire prescribed time, Samantha Carter," he said and she could have kissed him.

"Are you done torturing yourself now?" Rodney asked, moving out of the way so she could perch on the bed again. 

"Until tomorrow," she replied, exhausted. 

"Have dinner with us tonight," Sheppard said. "You, too, Teal'c. We're going to have a crowd at the apartment and we can discuss ideas about how to get Jackson normal again. And I'm going to institute a round-the-clock watch on him, video feed too. Just in case. I'll mention it to Caldwell."

She smiled at him, glad and grateful they were going to forgive her for the incredibly rude and horrible things she'd said. "I'd love to."

"You haven't tasted his cooking yet," Rodney said and everyone but Sheppard, who just smacked Rodney on the back of his head, laughed.

An orderly was approaching her with the blessed cold pack and the muscle stimulator. "Eighteen-thirty," Rodney added and patted her shoulder. "See you then."

"I'll be there as well, Sam," Elizabeth said. "Enjoy your resting period."

She was to have the electrical stimulation and the ice pack for fifteen minutes, though she could usually stretch it out a little more than that. It just felt so _good_ to finally stop moving her knee. She stretched out, put her head down and drifted, let the iciness reduce the swelling and pain but made sure to stay awake. Her dreams of late were something on the order of walking through a convention of ascended people, and it was beginning to creep her out.

"Colonel Carter?" 

Sam wished she could at least pretend to be asleep. "Hello, Dr. Ling." She really didn't want to talk to Mai Ling, dammit. She'd had a hard enough time already.

Ling bent over her. "Were you able to speak with Dr. Weir about the virus?" she asked, glancing around. At least she was keeping her voice low.

"Yes, I was, and please, don't mention it again. I'm sure Dr. Weir will be talking to you soon." If only she could be rude and tell the woman to just get lost. Of all the people lost with the mountain, why couldn't Mai Ling have been one of them?

"Oh, good! I'm so glad. I'm sure I can--"

"Mai, please. Don't mention this any more? You have to understand it's a very controversial subject."

"What? Why?" Ling looked honestly confused. "The Wraith, they're... they're horrible! Monsters! I'm sure Dr. Weir agrees. They could... they could be coming now, even as we speak!"

"No, they couldn't, Mai, most of them don't even know Atlantis still exists. Trust me, it's fine." Sam rubbed her forehead; great, now she had a headache to go with the throbbing in her leg. "Talk to Dr. Weir in private. Then don't mention it again."

Ling looked confused but nodded. "Well, okay. I'm just trying to help, trying to keep those monsters away from us." She glanced at the muscle stimulator, then spoke a little too loudly. "You've had your fifteen minutes, Colonel Carter, do I need to get you a wheelchair or are you fine with crutches?"

"The crutches are fine, Dr. Ling. Thanks." The sooner I get away from you the happier I'll be, Sam added, only in her head.

* * *

Dr. Ling estimated it would take six days to synthesize enough virus to make seeding the atmosphere of M6H-491 at all effective. Before their party the evening after the trip to Proculus, Rodney told John he'd found some lab space for Ling, off the grid but close enough to check on, at Elizabeth's request. The woman was completely clueless, Rodney reported with some disgust.

"She kept asking me who her lab assistants would be," Rodney said, leaning against the counter next to John, who was creating another of his perfect casseroles which meant he damn well _could_ cook, Rodney's comments aside. "I think by the fourteenth or fifteenth time I snapped at her she began to get it. Christ! She wanted to do the work in Carson's lab because she thought it was 'safer' than the southwest pier!"

"Safer for who?" John asked, shoving the casserole in the oven and closing the door with perhaps more enthusiasm than strictly required. "Her or us?"

"I'm going to take a wild stab at it and say her. She's the next thing to useless and, for a doctor, she's about as empathic as a snail. She makes Carson look like the Dalai Lama."

John turned a mild glare on Rodney. "Carson is extremely empathetic, which is why we're cutting him out of the loop on this... this..."

"Yes, yes, whatever," Rodney said, waving his hands. "I don't like it either, you know!"

John braced his hands on the counter and dropped his head down, trying to ease the tension in his back. "I don't even want to talk to her, Rodney," he said, keeping his voice soft because otherwise, he'd be shouting and throwing things. "This isn't right."

"No, it's not." Rodney sighed gustily, then put his hand on the back of John's neck, rubbing gently. "But she's right too, which pisses me the hell off as well. We're at war with an enemy who sees us as _food_ , John. Maybe this _is_ the only way to deal with them."

"There has to be a better solution," John muttered. One easier to swallow, he added in his head. It bugged the hell out of him that he was beginning to see Rodney's point, Elizabeth's point. For the soldier in him, that was unacceptable.

"A solution where the collateral damage would be much higher," Rodney said softly, though his voice was strained. "You always were a bit slow," Rodney said, the joke softened by his hands and his saddened voice.

John did his best to stay away from Elizabeth, both at the party and afterwards. The party was also close to the last time he saw Rodney, as the next day began the testing of Jeannie's equations. Rodney would drag himself home sometime in the early morning and stagger back to work while John was in the shower. John didn't like it much, but he knew the importance of the endeavor. They were going to need all the ZPMs they could get.

He kept close eye on all the scientists involved in the project, making sure they ate and drank and bathed, at least occasionally. As a peace offering, he found an apartment with a sunken tub and had it modified so that it was easy to get in and out of, then he showed it to Carter. The gratitude on her face made up for a lot of bad feelings.

Caldwell was fitted with a prosthetic leg and Teyla began working with him -- torture in the guise of physical therapy, at least in John's opinion. Ronon was feeling left out, so John sat down with him and Caldwell and set up some training time with the military from the Daedalus. Ronon was a good teacher, though he'd rather be doing something else. The problem was there _was_ nothing else. No unnecessary 'gate travel, not while the Daedalus was in dry dock on the east pier and John knew training was better than helping out at the Athosian settlement.

He also drew up some plans to modify jumper eight to spread the virus, once they finally got down to it. In between exhausted sleep and frantic activity, Rodney suggested they find a way to 'rinse' the jumper down before it returned to Atlantis. From the specs given to him by Dr. Ling, John knew he'd have to release the weaponized virus low enough for it to not be swept away by any prevailing winds and he could be carrying some of it back to Atlantis, if he wasn't careful.

M6H-491 had three large landmasses and a few archipelagos -- the gate was on a smallish island which gave him hope that there would be no hive ships close (that had been the main reason why Carson, Teyla and Ronon had managed to not get captured on their run for Lucius' stupid herbs). His vague plan was to cloak immediately then go orbital and use the HUD to determine weather patterns and locations of the hive ships. He could dump the virus then go back into orbit, trusting the vacuum of space to remove any residue. Then he'd 'gate to a beta site and spray a decontaminant over the jumper -- just in case -- before returning to Atlantis.

He hated the whole plan. But he wouldn't allow anyone else to fly the mission, not that there was anyone else to do it. They were keeping the entire thing confined to the five of them -- six, if you counted Ling -- though John wondered how much longer it would be possible to do so.

Elizabeth kept them all apprised of Dr. Ling's progress by email, which made John feel almost uncomfortable; she obviously knew better than to keep him up to date face to face. By the time the virus was ready for deployment, John had attached the 'crop-duster' nozzles and was simply waiting for  the canisters of virus to be attached to them. He flew the mission in the middle of the night, Atlantis time, for fewer witnesses, and put the biosuit on once in the jumper itself.

It was pre-dawn on the planet when John went through the 'gate. He immediately cloaked and went high, just barely within atmosphere before consulting the HUD for weather patterns and Wraith presence. One thing he immediately noted -- there were four hive ships, not three, and what seemed to be a real population on the largest landmass. John didn't doubt they were humans, either captured as a herd or the idiotic Wraith worshippers, and he also knew the virus would probably take at least some of their lives as well as the lives of the Wraith.

He clamped down on his jaw, feeling the bones creak and groan. This was the most wrong-headed, asinine idea ever. Genocide could not be the only answer.

Most of the hive ships were clustered on the largest landmass, though one was on a nearby continent. The weather was tropical and the HUD showed him the prevailing winds, which he could use to deploy his payload. He spent a long time in low orbit, looking at the pretty blue planet beneath him, trying to calm down and deploy the virus. There was a battle in his head -- people from Pegasus, including Teyla and Ronon, telling him what he was doing was good, maybe not noble, but good. And he heard other voices, mostly those from Earth, appalled at what he was going to do.

Finally, he just shut down his conscience and made several low passes over the hive ships, releasing his deadly payload. Once done, he climbed back up into orbit, staying long enough to ensure there was nothing left in the tanks beneath his jumpers. Then he dialed a beta site and 'gated to the empty world, where he spent extra time decontaminating the inside as well as the outside of the jumper. When he was positive he was safe, he 'gated back home.

He put the empty tanks in a biohazard bag and set them aside, for later disposal or to be returned to Dr. Ling for the next 'dose.' Then he walked slowly home, taking the long way around.

The apartment was dark but there was one soft light still shining, showing Rodney sound asleep on the sofa. John snorted in amusement and leaned down, shaking Rodney awake. "C'mon, sleeping beauty, time to go to bed."

"Huh? Oh. Hi." Rodney scrubbed his face with one hand. "You're back."

"Yeah." John helped him stand. "Why were you sleeping out here instead of on our comfy, large bed?"

"I was waiting for you," Rodney said. "Wha' timezit?"

"So late it's early. You done with the proof?" They reached the bedroom and John began stripping, tossing his clothes in the laundry pile. 

"Yeah." Rodney had his eyes closed as he copied John's movements. "Brainstorming meeting. Tomorrow. Late. Gonna sleep, all of us."

"Sounds like a plan." John sighed as his body hit their bed and he stretched, feeling tight muscles protest.

"Everything go okay?" Rodney asked, snuggling down into the bed with a sigh of his own.

John grunted and Rodney rolled over, looking at him. "What? You run into problems?"

"No. Everything went... I guess fine is the proper word." John swallowed, looking up at the ceiling, hidden by shadows. "There were humans there."

"Oh, Christ," Rodney murmured. They were silent so long John thought Rodney had fallen asleep. Apparently not; "C'mere," Rodney whispered, holding out his arm. John rolled so that Rodney could spoon up behind him, arms wrapping around John. "Meeting at fourteen-hundred. Gotta get up by noon."

"I'll fix you brunch in bed," John whispered back and Rodney's arms tightened around him. It took him a long time to fall asleep.

* * *

Why Sheppard and Caldwell wanted to attend the brainstorming session, Rodney had no idea. They were sitting in the back of the conference room, shoulder to shoulder, wearing twin frowns and Rodney knew for a fact they had absolutely no idea what was going on.

Rodney had already made his points; he sat back and watched Zelenka try to disagree with Carter while still sounding obsequious. Radek was so damn transparent at times. At least they'd managed to keep that idiot Bill Lee out of the loop, though once he'd found out about it, he'd wanted in. Rodney thought they should just give him the damn proof and let his brain explode, but Novak had strident objections to that, for some reason.

After an hour, all major points had been settled and the basic plan agreed upon. Rodney began scribbling on the whiteboard while Radek set up the plasma display with the proposed schematics of the containment room. It was a good thing they hadn't dismantled it after the disastrous first attempt to produce zero-point energy, even though Rodney had wanted to decorate it with strategic packets of C-4 several times.

Novak went to get Elizabeth while Rodney sat down near Sheppard and Caldwell, who still wore their fake expressions of 'oh, yes, I really understand what's going on.' They could be twins in the way their arms were crossed and their eyes narrowed. "So, you two need the words of one syllable description before the full briefing?"

Sheppard raised one eyebrow and stared at him. "Not everyone is as stupid as you are smart, Rodney," he drawled, making Rodney want to kick him. "You're using two different versions of Jeannie's universe bridge, one to extract sub-space and the other to replenish it, simultaneously. Kind of like filling a tank of gas while the engine is running, don't you think?" Sheppard looked over at Caldwell, who was nodding thoughtfully.

"It is not like a gas tank!" Rodney objected. 

"No, it's more like a siphon, I'd say," Caldwell said, nodding. "Extracting the lighter stuff while replenishing the heavier.

Rodney closed his eyes and counted to ten very rapidly. "No, it's not! Once the ZedPM is depleted, all it contains is... well, you could call it a vacuum, I guess. And besides..." He stopped and grimaced at John who raised an eyebrow and smirked back, the smug bastard. "I am not getting into this with you two. You'll just have to wait until Elizabeth gets here."

"Well, then, I'm here," Elizabeth said behind him, and Rodney turned to glare at her. She was followed by the rest of the command staff, Teyla, Carson, and Lorne.

Oh, goody. Physics for Dummies. "Fine. Carter, you're up."

"Me?" Carter gave him a look that was all surprise and hilarity. 

When had it been declared 'get Rodney day?' "Yes, you, because it was your breakthrough to use two bridges simultaneously in a single event."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, Rodney, I'll go first." Rodney sat in his chair with a humph and crossed his arms.

"You're going to have to excuse me if I don't stand," she began and everyone chuckled. She was looking better, though, and Rodney was glad, though he wouldn't tell her. "A quick remedial course in zero-point modules," she began and Rodney sighed. He was very glad she would take this part because it was just so damn frustrating trying to teach elemental science to idiots and Carter had the knack of making complex descriptions easy for a layman to understand. He listened to her explanation -- yeah, a bit simplistic, but it worked.

She got to the proof and glanced at Rodney who nodded and explained about Jeannie's old proof, the one that should have worked and didn't, failing spectacularly. And the memory of it still fucking hurt, too, Rodney thought. 

"If the subspace filling a zero-point module is actual subspace and not some bizarre artificial psuedo-subspace, then there should be a way to replenish it," Carter said, continuing with the explanation of Jeannie's new proof.

People were nodding and Rodney rolled his eyes. They didn't get it, they couldn't get it, they just wanted to _look_ like they did.

Carter continued. "What I was afraid of was pouring subspace into a zero-point module and the module itself not accepting it. Think of it like this -- one of those large cans of juice we used to get. You punch a hole in one side of the top with a church key, then you have to also punch a hole in the other side of the top to let air get in when you pour. The idea is to use two matter bridges, one to get the subspace in, and the other to let the 'vacuum' out -- though it really isn't a vacuum at all, it's just convenient to call it that."

"Yes, yes," Rodney picked up immediately, "and Jeannie's proof should allow us to do that, have two bridges simultaneously extracting and filling the ZedPM. That is, of course, a very simplified version of what we'll be doing, but the math is way above the rest of you."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and shook her head. "All right, with my _limited intelligence_ I see what you're saying. What are the odds of success?"

Rodney glanced at Novak whose eyes widened dramatically. No, he wouldn't ask her to present, but he would reference her. "It seems Novak enjoys statistical calculations for some reason," Rodney said. "She calculates the odds that this will work to between eighty-seven and ninety-two percent. Wait, before you say anything," Rodney continued, raising his hand as Elizabeth opened her mouth, "those are the odds for us producing a usable ZedPM, nothing else. The odds that we screw it up somehow and cause an explosion or worse are a bit better. Ninety-three to ninety-seven percent in our favor, I think, yes?" He glanced at Novak who nodded rapidly.

"An explosion or worse? What's the 'or worse'?" Sheppard said, and Rodney sighed. He knew Sheppard would be the stumbling block. 

"An explosion is bad, and might take out the containment room."

"Would take out the containment room," Radek interjected on top of Rodney's words. "And perhaps part of the southwest pier."

"Yes, yes. The 'or worse' of course would be tearing a hole in the fabric of space-time, destroying everything and everybody. Happy?" He looked at Sheppard who was frowning and shaking his head.

"We've heard that before, Rodney," Elizabeth said. "You were unwilling to listen to--"

"That is not the case this time," Carter interrupted Elizabeth, to Rodney's shock. "We've all been through the equations, gone through each other's notes, second guessed each other. And we've agreed that if any one of us objects at any step of the plan, we stop it, immediately and completely." She turned and smiled at Rodney who smiled back, confused. Who had changed, him or her?

"So, we've a good chance of succeeding, and a better chance that nothing will go disastrously wrong," Elizabeth said looking at the four of them. "What about the chance of depleting our present zero-point modules?"

"We're not going to use them," Radek said. "A Mark II naquadah generator should be sufficient for what we are trying to do."

"Which also helps in the 'or worse' part, since our power outlay won't be as massive as a ZedPM," Rodney said, nodding.

Elizabeth was nodding and had her pleased expression on. "I like this plan, people. I like it a lot. I think I can give the go-ahead, unless anyone else has any objections?" 

"Objections, no, but questions about the reactor retrofit," Caldwell said and Rodney frowned.

"Once we have the ZedPMs," he began, but Caldwell interrupted him. 

"I realize that, Dr. McKay, I'm just thinking in terms of what if."

"It's a valid point," Carter said, and Rodney turned his frown on her but she just looked innocent.

"Okay, okay," Rodney said, conceding. "Let's put Bill Lee in charge of that, then. It'll keep him out of our hair. I don't think he'd be able to blow it up and it'll make him feel useful."

"I could require he submit everything to me before implementing," Novak added, without even one hiccough.

Caldwell frowned, obviously thinking. "I can get behind that. But I think he should be told to submit everything to you and me, Dr. Novak, as a way of heading anything off."

Novak nodded vigorously, agreeing. Elizabeth looked around the room but no one said anything else, so she nodded too. "Very well. Let's do it. How long until we can set up for the first test?"

"Less than a week, I think," Rodney said, glancing at Novak, Radek and Carter. "Novak already has some ideas on how to do it."

"Good! Keep me posted every step of the way. And thank you, ladies and gentlemen, for all your work on this. I think you've given us a winner. Though I wish we had Mrs. Miller here to help."

Rodney had to agree with that. He would give pretty much anything to have Jeannie, Kaleb and the kids on Atlantis and in dubious safety. He'd read the mission reports on the Prior plague and hoped that Earth was still safe. Creating a way to recharge ZedPMs was one thing; keeping your family safe was quite another.

Sheppard waited until everyone but Rodney and Carter had left before standing and walking to them. "Need a hand with stuff?" he asked, with his ridiculously attractive half-smile in place. The man was a walking billboard for sex and didn't even know it.

"Yes," Carter said. She had crutches next to her because, as she had said, she was getting massively sick and tired of the wheelchair. "I feel so useless not being able to carry things."

"Don't be absurd, Carter," Rodney snapped, stacking laptops and notebooks. "You're injured. I'd rather have you back on your feet than back in bed and useless to us because you overdid it."

"Thanks for your deep concern, McKay," she said sarcastically. The effect was ruined by her abashed smile.

The three of them were the last to leave the room. "Everything go okay last night?" Carter asked in a low voice as she used her crutches to stand.

Sheppard looked down and didn't answer, so Rodney did. "There were humans on the planet," he murmured, wishing he could hug Sheppard. 

"Oh my God," Carter breathed. They all just stood there, not looking at each other, until Carter finally spoke again. "I'm sorry," she said. They were still keeping their voices low. "I wish..."

"Yeah." Sheppard sounded as bad as Rodney felt. "I do too."

* * *

Five days later, the scientists were all deeply enmeshed in their project. Steven was kept in the loop as much as his 'limited intelligence' allowed, and was pretty sure things were going well. According to Sheppard, who had the inside line due to sleeping with McKay (something that still amazed Steven because he couldn't figure out how anyone could put up with that man), told him the first test should be ready in two days. The two of them had been eating dinner together in the mess hall during the testing, since the scientists barely broke for a breath, much less for food.

"I'm going to be taking them their daily slop after I eat," Sheppard said, toying with what Steven thought were vegetables. "I'll get the latest info there."

"It's a good thing they've got a keeper," Steven said, shaking his head. 

"Yeah," Sheppard replied with a chuckle. "Rodney would be subsisting on coffee and Powerbars otherwise. It's pretty pathetic."

There was no one within earshot but Steven leaned forward anyway. "You're going tonight to follow up?"

"Yeah." Steven had heard about the presence of humans on M6H-491 and he knew how much it had to be killing Sheppard to know he'd harmed innocents.

"Let me come with you," Steven said. "I can't do any fighting yet, but I'm getting around fine and all this will be is a scouting mission. You might need an extra pair of hands or eyes."

Sheppard sighed. "Yeah. Thanks. I'll load us up with two hazmat suits." He dropped his fork to his plate with a clatter. "This has got to be the worst mission ever."

"I know." He wanted to say more but couldn't, not in the open. "What time?"

"Oh-fifteen. It's just dawn on the planet."

"I'll meet you in the jumper bay." Steven shoved the last of his suddenly-tasteless dinner into his mouth, chewed and swallowed.

"Looks like you're getting around very well," Sheppard said, eyeing the one crutch leaning next to Steven.

"I wasn't exactly given much of a choice," Steven replied, not as resigned as he pretended to be. "Teyla is one hell of a hard taskmaster."

Sheppard grinned and it was the smile of someone who obviously knew the truth of things. "I spent my first year with her constantly covered in stick-sized bruises," he said. "Once she finally got the idea  through my thick skull, the bruises faded a bit. But they've never completely gone away."

"She's tough," Steven acknowledged. "Beckett seems to think I'll be walking close to normally in another four to six months, and even running, some day." Steven pushed himself away from the table. "You've got yourself a damn fine crew here, Sheppard."

The grin morphed into a broad, proud smile. "Yeah, I do, don't I? How lucky is that?"

Later that evening, they met again in the jumper bay. Sheppard had the two hazmat suits and helped Steven into his. "I'm bringing the tanks of decontaminant with us," he said, putting the helmet aside and sitting at the controls. "Once we're done scouting, we'll gate to the beta site and hose us down, just in case."

"From her notes," Steven said, watching as Sheppard prepped the jumper for flying, "Ling said the virus half-life is about thirty-six hours. So it should be all dead by now."

"I haven't stayed alive in Atlantis by taking stupid chances," Sheppard replied and Steven nodded in agreement. Sheppard was doing fine, better than Steven had ever expected, in fact. 

Sheppard dropped them to the 'gateroom and took them through the 'gate, cloaking as soon as they were through. It was just before dawn on the island where the 'gate was, and there was nothing in the air at all, not even birds.

Sheppard called up the HUD as they went sub-orbital. "This landmass had three of the four..." Sheppard's voice died out. "There're only two." He reoriented the jumper until they could see another smallish continent. "There's the fourth one, but there were three on the other."

"One took off, then."

"After I spread the virus." Sheppard sounded pretty much the way Steven felt -- this was only supposed to be a test.

If one of the hive ships left while infected... "We need to find out what happened."

"Yeah." 

Sheppard brought the jumper in low, aiming for the largest area where Steven could see two hive ships and their attendant cruisers settled. As they got closer, he also saw lifesigns. "Are those Wraith?" he asked, pointing to the clusters of life.

"No. Rodney's tweaked the HUD so it can tell the difference between Wraith and not-Wraith, but that's about it. I have to assume those are humans, though."

"And no Wraith, anywhere."

Sheppard didn't say anything, he didn't have to. He put the jumper down in an area sheltered by trees, near one of the clusters of humans. He pulled his lifesigns detector out and scanned the area with it and the HUD, but no Wraith came up at all. "They could be hibernating..." he mused.

"We need to go find out." Steven put his helmet on. "Or rather, you do. I can back you up only so far and I don't have the gene, so don't get taken."

"I'm not planning on it," Sheppard said, putting on his helmet and standing. "You covered?" He waited for Steven's nod before going aft and opening the hatch. "You know how to turn the cloak off, right? There are some specimen containers, including a couple of vacuum bottles in cubby one-port. Can you..."

"Yeah, I can handle that," Steven said, standing. His stump was aching but not so much that it worried him. He'd just been on his 'feet' a bit too much earlier. "Radio silence?"

"Yeah, if it's clear, I'll contact you." Grabbing his sidearm and putting a digital camera in the suit's pouch, Sheppard opened the hatch and left.

Steven busied himself getting the samples. He opened the vacuum bottles just outside the jumper, reflecting on how weird it was not to see anything when he turned around. The cloaking technology used on the jumpers was impressive, and he'd been agitating for a way to apply it to larger craft, like the Daedalus. Maybe he could finally get it done while they were waiting on repairs. The ZPM project, assuming it worked, would make the power consumption problem negligible.

He had to improvise a way to get a sample out of a shallow creek nearby, but he knew it would be important. There was a lot of healthy plant and animal life so it was clear the virus did not affect non-humans. He wasn't hedging his bets, though.

Steven stowed the samples and sat back down in the co-pilot's chair, awkward in his haz-mat suit. According to his watch, Sheppard had been gone for close to forty-five minutes. He was coming to understand Sheppard better, and actually liked the man, to his surprise (and apparently to Sheppard's). Steven was career military and wanted it that way; Sheppard might have started out career military but that's not the way he ended up, his obvious problems with authority proved that. He'd read Sheppard's file and found it hard to agree with the military tribunal who called him on dereliction of duty in Afghanistan. Sheppard had been merely doing his job and Steven could see where he might have done the same in a similar situation.

Thing was, Sheppard was good for Atlantis, and not just because he had the gene. He was a risk-taker to an extent and willing to go the extra mile for anyone under his command. However, Steven thought he might be one of those types who substitute 'friends' for 'family' as well. While there was nothing wrong with that per se, as a military head of an outpost in very dangerous, hostile territory, it could mean he was setting himself up for a fall. There were times when you had to cut your losses, had to sacrifice some for the majority. Caring too much could be a liability at times.

Half an hour later, his radio crackled to life. "Caldwell, this is Sheppard."

"Go ahead."

"I'm coming back. De-cloak. There's nothing here that could possibly threaten us except the damn virus."

Steven hit the control to de-cloak, even as he saw Sheppard's big, orange suit approaching. "Understood."

"No, you don't." Sheppard's voice sounded odd. "And I wish I didn't."

Well, that didn't sound good, not at all.

Sheppard came back inside the jumper, stowed his sidearm and the camera -- after first removing the memory card -- and sat at the controls, lifting them immediately. "I'll call Atlantis from the beta site, get our little cabal woken up and dragged into the briefing room." He dialed the beta site. Steven couldn't see his face clearly from the angle, but Sheppard's movements had the clipped, abrupt feel of a man close to the end of his rope.

As they 'gated, Caldwell said, "What happened?"

Sheppard put the jumper down on a bare, rocky plain and powered off. He didn't move for a long minute and Steven found himself becoming increasingly alarmed. One thing he could say for Sheppard, the guy had nerves and balls of steel. Whatever he had seen...

When Sheppard finally spoke, his voice sounded strangled and thick. "There were no Wraith still alive on the planet, according to the humans there. It was a captive breeding program. Almost all women, and everyone above the age of puberty was pregnant." He drew a ragged breath. "Those that were still alive, anyway."

Steven felt like he'd been hit by a truck, a very large and painful truck. "Jesus Christ," he muttered, closing his eyes.

Sheppard dialed Atlantis and sent his message through. "Did you get samples?" he asked, getting to his feet and hauling out the canisters of decontaminant.

"Yeah." Steven stood to help. They didn't say a word until they were done, spraying both the inside and outside of the jumper and each other with the misty fluid. It didn't take them long but they made sure to strip out of the suits before dialing Atlantis again and returning. 

Sheppard put them into the jumper bay, shutting down. He stayed where he was and didn't say a word. Steven could tell he was fighting for control -- hell, he was fighting for control himself. The entire situation had gone from bad to infinitely worse. "We need to go back there," Sheppard finally said, not looking up. "I promised them we'd return to help."

"Understood. We'll need Beckett, then, and examine the samples for viral residue."

"I've got my laptop..." After a moment of silence, Sheppard slammed his hand against the console, drawing a protesting beep from it.

"Bring it, the samples and the memory card from the camera," Steven said. "Then go find something to hit other than Elizabeth."

After a moment, Sheppard turned a frown on him. "What?"

"You heard me. I didn't see it first-hand but I can guess what it was like. Let's go."

Sheppard inserted the camera memory card into his laptop, then slung the bag containing the samples over his shoulder. Steven followed him out and down to the briefing room, where Elizabeth was sitting with Carter and McKay. Sheppard hesitated only briefly as he entered, then walked inside the U of the table and banged his laptop down in front of Elizabeth. He dropped the bag and turned, leaving without a word.

"John?" Elizabeth said and McKay stood, ready to go after him.

"No, sit, you need to see this first," Steven said to McKay, then took a seat next to Elizabeth. Once the doors were closed, he opened Sheppard's laptop and called up the memory card. He took a deep breath but couldn't look at anyone else in the room. "The Wraith had apparently begun a human captive breeding program on the planet."

The first picture came up while the reaction to that went around the room. The picture was of a hugely pregnant girl, no more than fourteen or fifteen, dead on the ground. Elizabeth moaned. "Sheppard reported no living Wraith, according to the humans there. He did promise them help; from these pictures, we'll need to move fast." 

He shuffled through the pictures, trying to distance himself from their horror. Dead and decomposing Wraith and humans. A shot of several girls, all naked and pregnant in varying degrees, their hollow and accusing eyes dark and pain-filled. A pile of dead children, another of dead babies.

Carter made a sound he'd never heard her make before. 

"Oh my God, no, God no..." Elizabeth whispered. Her face was white and pinched and her hands trembled.

Suddenly, McKay stood, reached between Elizabeth and Carter and slammed the lid of the laptop down. "Enough. That's enough" he growled, his voice and hands shaking. "We had no way of knowing this would happen but it's too late now. We need to get Carson and a team out there immediately."

"I took samples, we should wake Dr. Ling and have her check them," Steven said, keeping his voice level and low with effort. Sitting on the other side of Elizabeth, Carter had tears running down her face though she hadn't said anything. Elizabeth looked like she was about a split second from being sick. "After that, we'll need to decide how and what to tell Beckett."

"I'll get Ling," McKay said, grabbing the sample bag. Steven couldn't blame him for not wanting to be around when Beckett found out. "I'll tell her to report here once she's checked the samples."

Realizing Elizabeth wasn't going to be able to function, not quite yet, Steven nodded. "There's more -- one of the hive ships was gone when we got there." Elizabeth moaned again, wrapping her arms around herself. "I'll go get Beckett," Steven continued as McKay left the room. He stood and put one hand on Elizabeth's shoulder, squeezing, trying to provide comfort. Her jaw was trembling as much as her hands and her eyes were closed. As McKay left, Steven leaned down. "This is why we won't allow you to take all the responsibility for this," he said quietly. "Best laid plans, Elizabeth. Best laid plans." Then he straightened, gave Carter a long look, and left the room to wake Beckett.

* * *

There was no way in hell John was going to be able to sleep, not with the memory of all those children -- fucking children! -- staring at him. Piles of dead babies, rotting next to dead Wraith. He went to the gym instead, where he beat the shit out of the heavy bag, trying to decide whose face to attach to it -- Elizabeth's? Ling's? His own?

He should have known Rodney would know where to find him. After about half an hour, the door opened and he could tell it was Rodney, somehow, even though neither of them said a word. John whaled away at the bag for another fifteen minutes or so before he finally lost strength in his arms and legs. He tried to hold on to the bag to keep himself upright but it didn't work and he began sliding down.

Suddenly, there were strong arms around him and a familiar body behind him, easing him to the floor. "I've got you," Rodney whispered, landing with John basically on his lap. "I'll always catch you, I swear..."

"You always do," John said, his voice raw as he tried to hold back the emotion threatening to overwhelm him. "God, Rodney... they were _babies_..."

Rodney didn't say anything, just pulled John's head to his neck. John wrapped his arms around Rodney and clung, felt both bodies shake as the horror of what John had seen, what John had done sank in. _He_ had dropped the virus, knowing there had been humans on the planet. They knew there could be a human toll from the virus; at the very least, any humans cocooned on hive ships would die when the Wraith in charge of the ship died. They hadn't counted on babies. 

"I should have... shouldn't have..."

"No, stop." Rodney was still holding him tightly. "Don't go there. It's done, John. It's done and now we just need to clean it up and move on. Don't you _dare_ start second-guessing yourself or blaming yourself."

"But..."

"No. Listen. The Wraith were to blame for those children being there. They were to blame for the pregnant girls, the babies. Not you. Never you."

Intellectually, John knew Rodney was right. Emotionally was an entirely different story.

They sat on the floor of the gym until Rodney tried to move and winced. "C'mon. We're going home. I'm too old and you're too heavy for lap-sitting."

"The project...?"

"Can wait. We're close to the homestretch anyway, another day or two won't matter."

John sighed and managed to extricate himself from Rodney's hold and stand, giving Rodney a hand to haul him to his feet. They walked back to the transporter and to their quarters in silence, Rodney bumping occasionally, deliberately, against John. When they arrived home, John noted the time as being a little too close to dawn for sleep, though he allowed Rodney to tug him into their bedroom, let Rodney strip them both down, climbed under the covers of their bed with Rodney right behind him. 

The ceiling of their bedroom was lost in shadows, but all John could see were the vague outlines of dead children, pregnant children, children with no hope at all. He wondered if any of them had been Wraith worshippers, or if their parents had been. He wondered -- not for the first time -- if the Wraith ever fed energy back to other humans besides those who were stupid enough to make truce with them. He wondered if he was ever going to be able to sleep without nightmares again.

Suddenly, Rodney's warm hand was on his face, cupping his cheek, insisting John turn his head. "It'll be okay," Rodney breathed.

"How can it be?" John asked him, genuinely curious. "Remember when Elizabeth said we'd crossed a line? When Caldwell was infected with a Goa'uld?" Rodney's breath stuttered and John knew he'd remembered. "We've gone so far beyond that line now I can't even see it. We should never have done this."

John rolled so his head was resting on one of Rodney's broad shoulders. "I've killed before, I've killed lots of times. And I've known, I've always known, that some of the people I've killed were innocents, they weren't Taliban or Genii or whatever. I've shot--"

"You shot _me_ ," Rodney said softly, and John could hear the smile in his voice.

"I said I was sorry," John said, his standard reply. But he didn't want to go over that horror, the knowledge that if Teyla hadn't jostled his arm, ruined his aim, Rodney would have been _dead_ by John's bullet -- something John had never told Rodney and never, ever would. 

No, he had enough baggage to deal with without calling that one up.

"Why is this so much worse?" John finally asked, hoping that Rodney had an answer, knowing he didn't.

It was a long time before Rodney spoke again. "This doesn't make you a monster, I know that's what you're thinking."

John sighed. "Give it up, McKay, you're not telepathic."

"No, but you're easy to read." Rodney said. "And I know how _I'm_ feeling. All of those children, every last one of them, would have ended up Wraith food. Now, some of them are dead but the rest of them will be free as soon as we can get to them. Tell me it wasn't worth it, wasn't worth the lives of the ones we can save."

John tried, he really tried, but he couldn't. "I can't," he finally whispered, and Rodney's arms tightened around him.

He didn't think he'd be able to sleep, but to his surprise, when he opened his eyes again, there was muted daylight dancing across the shadows of the ceiling. He had half-remembered dreams of hordes of people, standing far away in the golden sunlight, all trying to get his attention, roaring softly in the background. He and Rodney had rolled into the position they most often woke to when they slept a whole night together -- Rodney spooned up behind John and wrapped around him almost as if he were afraid John might escape sometime in the night. John nestled back further into Rodney's embrace, feeling a morning hard-on poking him in the ass.

In his mind's eyes, John could still see the horrible camp filled with naked, pregnant girls. There had been no men past the age of puberty and it didn't take a genius to figure out what had been happening, how the Wraith had been getting sperm. He didn't need to see the tables with stirrups, didn't need to see whatever it was the Wraith had been using to inseminate the girls. Didn't need to see the piles of dead, prematurely-aged males, unnecessary once their sperm was harvested. 

There had been nothing happy about the camp, nothing at all -- the girls had been silent and had seemed almost terrified of speaking aloud. John wondered if they'd ever known freedom or if they were the second or even the third generation of the nauseating program. They'd compared themselves and Elizabeth's idea to use the virus to Nazis, but what John saw, what he'd heard and most dreadfully what he'd smelled was far beyond what mere monsters the Nazis were. 

Behind him, Rodney muttered something in his sleep and his arms and legs tightened around John. Shoving himself back further, John felt Rodney's erection prod him through two layers of thin cotton and realized there was a way to help, a way to make him forget, maybe, at least for a little while. He reached back and down, catching his boxers and pushing them as far down as he could, threading his fingers through Rodney's to find his cock.

"Wha...? John?" Rodney snuffled, his hands automatically caressing John's belly and genitals.

"Yeah," John breathed, squirming enough to get Rodney's dick where it felt the best.

"Jesus," Rodney said, his hips thrusting. "Now? Like this?"

"Yeah, please." John turned his head, trying to convey his urgency.

"Mmm." Rodney's hand drifted down to find John half-hard and getting harder. "Mm. Yeah. Gimme the lube," he murmured, squeezing John then fondling his balls.

They were closer to John's side of the bed and it wasn't much of a reach for John to get to the table drawer. He was shaking, his pulse pounding and his breath stuttering, almost as if he were on the verge of a panic attack.

"Rubber?"

"No, no, just this," John whispered, not sure if he could have gotten any volume out of his voice. He passed the half-empty tube back and felt Rodney shove his boxers off. He did the same to his, and pushed his ass back again, towards Rodney. "C'mon, Rodney," he breathed.

"Jus' a minute." But there were thick, slick fingers at his opening and John shoved back against them, gasping as they breached him. "Stay still!"

"No, don't want to stay still, c'mon, Rodney."

"Damn pushy bottom," Rodney said, in the half-amused, half-horny-out-of-his-mind tone of voice that usually made John smile.

But there was Rodney, hard, hot Rodney, entering him and the feel of it was wonderful. He willed his muscles to relax and let Rodney push in smoothly, without a pause, until he was balls-deep. "Yeah..." Rodney's voice was one long sigh.

"Oh, God yeah," John matched his tone, even though he could feel himself spasm around Rodney's dick. "Move, c'mon, move now."

But Rodney didn't move. He stayed, buried inside John, his arms wrapped around John, his legs between John's. "John?"

"Move, Rodney please... Hard, do me hard..."

"John." Where did that serious tone come from? "John, I'm not going to punish you. You don't deserve punishment."

John felt himself collapse, curling his body around into a fetal position _fetal position, the position of a fetus before birth_ and felt a horrible bubble rise up from his abdomen through his stomach and up his esophagus to emerge from his mouth as a cracked, harsh sob.

Rodney's hands were warm and tight and he was still there, still deeply inside John. "I'm not going to punish you." Slowly, Rodney started to pull out, warm and slick, only to push back in, firm but not hard, not hurting. "That's not what we need, not what you need." Rodney's big, warm hands were moving over John, stroking, soothing, calming, exciting. John had softened but Rodney's hands were on him, encouraging him.

"How do you _know_?" John demanded, though his body was beginning to uncurl, unfurl at Rodney's knowledgeable touch.

There was a wet, warm snort on the back of his neck. "Hello? Genius here. And an expert in John Sheppard." He gave John another long, deep thrust, raking John's prostate, making him hard almost despite himself.

"You are not," John gasped, and Rodney chuckled.

"Are too." Another slow thrust and John moaned. "See?" Rodney was beginning to move faster, but not too much, and it felt so damn good. "Please don't hate yourself, John," he whispered into John's ear and John shuddered, hard.

"Rodney..." Rodney's hand was squeezing John perfectly, jacking him in time to the thrusts.

"Forgive yourself, John, please?" Oh, yes, he was picking up speed and John's breath clotted in his throat. "I know I sound like Heightmeyer, and we're all going to end up with memorial chunks of her sofa at the end of this, but for once, follow my order, just this once, please?"

John couldn't have spoken if his life depended on it, too torn up, too close to coming for anything but nonsense to emerge.

"Come, John. Come now." Rodney squeezed John just right and it felt like John's whole body seized up as he came, on cue, damn Rodney and how well he knew John anyway.

John panted for breath as Rodney tipped him over a little further and went for it, those long, deep strokes practically killing John with pleasure. Then Rodney lost his rhythm and started keening in the back of his throat as his hips jerked and stuttered, as he came inside John.

John's face was smashed into his pillow, Rodney was too heavy on his back, he could barely catch a breath, he was miserable and half an inch from real tears and blindingly happy, all at the same time. He wasn't sure which god he'd blown so well to get Rodney, but he thanked anyone or anything listening that Rodney loved him, wanted him, cared for him. Rodney might have been the only rude person in Canada, might have been a gigantic dick to pretty much everyone he ever met (and those he had yet to meet), but at the moment he was the only thing real, honest and true in John Sheppard's universe. 

A dot on the map of infinity -- You Are Here.

* * *

Starting what had to be pretty much the worst day in existence with mindblowing sex didn't really help abate the horribleness. At least John had, true to form, passed out immediately afterwards. Rodney didn't really want to leave John or their big, comfy, warm bed, but he knew he didn't have much choice. Damage control from the evening before must have been well underway, and he felt bad about shirking his part of it. 

Not _really_ bad, of course, but bad enough.

A quick, quiet shower and Rodney left Sheppard snoring peacefully. He grabbed a Powerbar from their kitchen and promised himself coffee from the mess, his first stop. Radek and Novak were there already, eating lunch together, and waved him over. Rodney grimaced but went, after pouring himself a cup of coffee first.

"Is it true?" Radek demanded in a low voice.

"Depends on what 'it' is," Rodney hedged, sitting gingerly next to Novak. He didn't think she knew any martial arts and he could probably outrun her if he needed to.

"McKay." Radek looked coldly furious. "The rumors are everywhere and the infirmary is jammed with children. Children who are _pregnant_ , McKay."

"They're here? Oh, thank God." Rodney slumped over the table, then gulped half his coffee, hoping it would stop his shaking.

"Sam won't answer her door or her radio. Dr. Beckett and Dr. Weir had a screaming match this morning, too," Novak said, keeping her voice as soft as Radek's. "Sara, she was on 'gate duty, she told me. I didn't think Dr. Beckett even understood those kinds of words."

"So they are from the Wraith?" Radek asked, looking at Rodney with his eyes narrowed. Rodney knew that look, it was the 'you had information and you didn't _share_ you balding bastard and I will get you for it' look. Radek had perfected it, actually.

Rodney sighed. "I suppose it won't do any good to hide it, so yes. The Wraith apparently had designed..." he couldn't speak the words without first draining his coffee for courage, "designed a captive breeding program. On M6H-491." He looked down into his empty coffee cup rather than up at their faces.

Novak and Radek were silent for a long time. When Rodney finally looked up, he found Novak's face wet with tears (and Rodney flashed back to the night before, when Carter had been crying soundlessly, helplessly). Radek's was pale and pinched and furious and Rodney was glad that anger wasn't aimed at him... at least he hoped it wasn't. He was still unable to meet Radek's gaze fully.

"How... never mind. Did we save them all?" Radek wasn't dumb. On his best day, he was close to Rodney's level of intelligence, not that Rodney would ever admit that. Rodney could tell that Radek knew there was more to the story, but he would wait, he would bide his time and he knew Rodney would be incapable of keeping it all inside for long.

"I don't know. I just got up. Sheppard and I went to bed before the... the rescue began."

"Ah." Yeah, Radek had figured out something else was going on. The real question was whether Carson had figured it out or whether he'd been told the whole thing. From the 'screaming match' comment, Rodney suspected the latter.

"I need to get to Elizabeth's office, I think," Rodney stood. Novak was wiping her face on her napkin and looked blotched and puffy. 

"She is in conference room." As Radek spoke, Rodney risked a glance into his eyes and saw only sadness and resignation. "Leslie and I will be heading back to the containment chamber in a little while. I'll call you and Sam if there's anything that needs to be done. Hopefully she'll answer."

Rodney nodded jerkily and skittered away, away from sobbing colleagues and too-knowledgeable ones. He refilled on coffee, girded his loins and made for the 'gate room. He took the long way around, doing his best to avoid the infirmary. The pictures from the night before were bad enough, he had no desire to see the real thing.

Elizabeth was alone in the conference room, her laptop and papers scattered around her seat. She had her head in her hands and it was obvious she hadn't slept. He hesitated briefly but the despair showing in every line of her body was too much, he had to help, somehow. "Elizabeth?"

She jerked slightly at the sound of his voice, but didn't look up. He walked into the room, inside the U of the table and leaned against it opposite her seat. After a long moment, she finally spoke and her voice was dry and raw and made him wince in sympathy. "I will never, ever again scream at you for making a mistake," she said.

He snorted and closed his eyes briefly. "I wouldn't know how to act. Sheppard always says I work better under threats and pressure... and he's probably right."

She sighed quietly. "I used to think I did too." When she finally looked up, Rodney was shocked at how terrible she looked -- her eyes were red and bruised, her face was pinched and pale and her hands shook. "Carson's not speaking to me." Rodney just nodded; he'd expected that. "I'm not sure he'll ever speak to me again."

"He will." Rodney studied the floor for a few moments. "He's..." He paused and tried again. "I'm sure he feels... betrayed, but those girls--"

"Betrayed isn't half of it," Elizabeth interrupted him. "He screamed at me for ten minutes straight, calling me everything from Mengele to Cowan, demanding to know when I'd developed a God complex. Ling was here for most of it, not that it helped because she had no idea why Carson was so upset. He banned her from practicing medicine on Atlantis. Said he wouldn't have her in his infirmary if she were the last doctor in the galaxy."

"Good," Rodney muttered. Ling was certifiable. "Elizabeth. Listen to me. Those girls, the ones Sheppard and Caldwell found, if we hadn't gone there to drop the damn virus they would _still be there_. They would be living out a life of hell, kept pregnant until they died, and would have watched their babies be _eaten by the Wraith_. We saved more than we killed, Elizabeth."

"You think I don't know that?" Elizabeth demanded. 

"No! I think you don't!" It took an effort, but Rodney managed to keep his voice low. "Don't get so damned bound up by guilt that you don't see the larger picture, here. You wanted this project, you knew there was justification for it. Yes, it's horrible. Yes, it's even more horrible what happened. But that doesn't mean what _you_ did caused what happened to those girls! It _saved them_ , Elizabeth."

Elizabeth was shaking her head and Rodney could tell, she was still bound up in her grief and guilt. 

"Get up. Get up, go to the mess hall, get something to eat. Then go to your quarters and get some sleep. I know you've still got a stash of Ambien; take one." Rodney pushed himself off the table and crossed the space to where she sat. "Carson is your friend as much as your colleague. He won't stay this way forever, he'll get over it, he'll get it. Sooner or later."

She sat back in her chair and wrapped her arms around herself. "I..."

"I'm going down to the lab to work on the project. Don't make me find Caldwell to relieve you, because I will if you don't go get some food and rest." He kept his voice mild because he could tell how much pain she was in.

Elizabeth looked like she wanted to object but didn't have the energy, so she nodded instead, and began gathering up the papers. 

Rodney glanced up and saw Sheppard standing in the door to the conference room, looking a little lost. He walked to the doors and Sheppard moved just outside. "Damn, I was hoping you would get more sleep."

Sheppard gave him a weary look. "No chance of that, unfortunately."

"Did you hear us?"

"Some of it."

Rodney searched Sheppard's face for something, he wasn't sure what, but nodded anyway. "You okay, now? At least a little bit?"

Sheppard gave him a crooked smile. "No. But I will be. I got told off by this real smart guy I know."

"You should listen to people smarter than you," Rodney said, returning the smile. "Be nice to her, she's already beat herself up more than we ever could."

Sheppard sighed. "Yeah, I can tell. I'll get her to the mess hall and back to her quarters."

"Good. I'm going down to the containment chamber, see if we can get up to speed."

They both nodded and turned away from each other. Rodney stopped, though, just a step away, turning and grabbing John's t-shirt, hauling him back. John had time for one almost-squeaked "McKay?" before Rodney pressed their bodies together and sealed his lips to John's. Freezing for just a second in surprise, John all but melted, framing Rodney's face gently with his hands, returning the kiss with interest. 

There was a whistle and a half-hearted catcall from the command room before Rodney let go. John looked at him, dazed and confused but not angry, thank goodness. "I fucking love you, John Sheppard," Rodney growled, just loud enough for it to carry, ignoring the shaking in his body and his rational brain asking him just what the hell he thought he was doing. 

Sheppard swallowed hard then gave him a pleased and watery half-smile, half-smirk. He caressed Rodney's cheek with one hand before turning back to Elizabeth and the conference room.

Rodney gave the 'gateroom a general glare but no one said a thing. Then he stalked to the transporter and then to the containment room on the west pier. Novak and Zelenka were already there with the staff, everyone working slowly, looking depressed. 

"All right you clowns, get off your asses and get to work. We need some full ZedPMs." 

Weirdly, everyone in the room perked up and looked relieved. He marked it up to them all being masochists and just got busy.

* * *

Carson was more tired than he could remember being in a long time -- and that was saying something. Since he'd moved to Atlantis, he could count on one hand the number of days he'd gotten sufficient sleep. Well, maybe two hands. He scrubbed his face with his hands and shook his head; when he started arguing with himself it was time to call it a day. Which he couldn't do.

Mija's vitals were stable and she was finally asleep, the poor, wee mite. She'd managed to give birth to her baby boy, though, and both would be fine. She'd delivered the boy soundlessly and had almost broken Agatha Petillo's hand in the process. Carson didn't want to think about why she wouldn't have made a sound during delivery -- he was just glad he hadn't had to perform another C-section or worse, another abortion. The lassies were just far too young for what was happening to their bodies.

As he walked back towards his office, he saw John and Teyla approaching, trailed by four Athosian women. "Oh, thank you God," he murmured as they approached. 

Teyla put her hands on his shoulders and bent her head. Carson gladly touched his forehead to hers. "The midwives?" he asked.

She straightened up and smiled. "Yes. There is no one at present due on the mainland and they were all very eager to help."

Carson signaled for Dr. Hamilton. "Lisa, these women are Athosian midwives, put them to work, would you, love?"

Dr. Hamilton looked as delighted as Carson felt and he let them go, chatting quietly. "That'll be a great help to us," Carson sighed, nodding.

"I think you're about as ready for sleep as Elizabeth was," John said and Carson jerked away, still angry. "Carson?"

"Carson." Teyla's voice was softer than John's but no less accusing. "Do not do this, Carson. She is in as much pain as you are."

"As much as these wee bairns are, then?" he asked, barely able to keep his voice low.

Teyla glanced at John briefly before they double-teamed him, herded him back into his office and closed the door. "Don't think you're going to be changing my mind about this... this... mass murder!" he said, glad to be shut away so he could raise his voice. "D'you know how many wee lassies I've seen today? How many are in hospital with child? Two hundred three! And nay a one of them over fifteen!"

"And how many would there be if we hadn't found them?" John nearly shouted. "If the Wraith hadn't been _dead_ when we'd found them? Four hive ships, Carson!" 

"I dinna care if it was four hundred!"

"And how many of these girls died because of the virus, Carson?" Teyla had a way of cutting to the chase, cutting to the bone, and Carson wanted nothing so bad as to duck that question. But she wouldn't let him. "How many?"

He swallowed hard, trying to keep bile down, trying to look anywhere but at her. He knew how she felt about that abomination of a virus that idiot Ling created -- or he would, if he asked her.

"Carson?"

He sighed and closed his eyes, slumping. "Twelve. As best we can figure." He heard John catch his breath.

"And Dr. Biro told me most of the babies--"

"Died of exposure or malnutrition, aye." He blindly fumbled behind himself for his chair; John found it and all but pushed him into it. Carson dropped his face into his hands as he heard John move to his desk, boost himself up to sit on it. There was a scraping noise as Teyla pulled a chair over. He felt her warm hand on his knee. "They had no way of knowing how to care for them," he said, the last word coming as a harsh sob no matter how he tried to stop it.

"Some of them had been fed upon, Carson," Teyla said, her voice soft. 

"I know." He had been there. He had seen the piles of dead babes, seen the rotting Wraith corpses. Felt the horrible gladness that those Wraith were dead and that was wrong, wrong! "It doesnae justify... It canna... Please..." and he didn't even know what he was asking of them, only that he wanted to have the memories excised, the memories of the camp and of his angry satisfaction.

"No, it doesn't justify genocide, Carson." John's voice was low and strained.

"I will not argue with you, with either of you," Teyla said, her voice harder than he ever remembered hearing. "Elizabeth has explained this to me, the people her father came from, the Germans. And she explained the Nazis and this word, genocide, as well. And I say to you the same as I said to her: yes, genocide is evil. However, the Wraith are far more evil. You were not born here. You do not have the same memories I do of growing up in the shadow of the Wraith, wondering every moment if it would be your last because of them. If this virus kills every Wraith in existence, everyone in this galaxy will rejoice. Even if the Wraith were the creators of many beautiful and worthwhile things, we would still dance upon their corpses." 

Her small, strong hands pulled Carson's hands away from his face, made him look at her, at her anger  and unrepentant, grim resolve. "The Wraith took my family from me, Dr. Beckett. Do not presume to feel guilt over giving me my revenge and putting the shades of my lost ones finally to rest."

Carson had to close his eyes in the face of her honesty. "I dinnae know if... if..."

"You don't bear the responsibility for the virus, Carson," John said, softly. He rested one hand on Carson's shoulder. "Elizabeth does, I do, Rodney, Carter, Caldwell -- we all do. Not you." John's voice caught on his last words. "She... Elizabeth wanted to... to spare you that. She wanted to spare us all that, actually. She told us it would be on her head, her decision, only hers."

He turned to look at John, astonished. "She... but why?"

"I think because she knew something like this would happen. We were ready for some human deaths, we knew it could happen." John sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "This was only supposed to be a test. But because of it, we saved over two hundred little girls a horrible fate. What if the Wraith decided it was a good idea to set more of these camps up? What if more hive ships started doing this?"

"And there is another thing," Teyla said. "I believe you are all becoming too wound up in this notion of genocide to realize -- if we had destroyed those hive ships with a bomb, everyone and everything would have died, the children, the plants, the animals, everything. A bomb does not discriminate, does it? How is the virus worse than that?"

It was too much. They were making too much sense and Carson couldn't deal with it. He was so damn tired, so worn out from so much death, so much despair. He couldn't keep it inside any longer, his defenses were too weak. He began to cry, his body wracked with sobs for all the dead bairns and all the alive but forever scarred lassies. Teyla -- sweet, martial, strong Teyla -- gathered him into her arms, while John Sheppard -- honest, stout, forthright John -- patted his back, made sure Carson knew he was cared for.

He managed to pull himself back together finally and straightened. John handed him a box of tissues and Carson wiped his face, blew his nose. "I think it's time you went to bed too," John said, repeating his words from earlier.

"No, I have too--"

"Do not force us to sedate you, Carson," Teyla said. She was smiling as she said it but Carson had little doubt she would carry out the threat.

He gave in and slumped; the better part of valor. "Aye. Let me eat something and I'll turn in."

"I will accompany you, Carson," Teyla said, standing, graceful as ever. "And John will eat with us as well, before we take the scientists their dinner."

Carson exchanged a look with John, then turned back to Teyla. "Yes, mum," he said, smiling weakly. 

She gave him a wide, comforting smile in return. "I believe the proper response is 'yes, ma'am,'" she said before giving him a hand up. "And Laura did say she would wait to eat with us. It would not be proper  to keep her waiting."

Flanked by two of his best friends, Carson allowed himself to be towed to the mess hall. "Will Elizabeth..."

"I put Elizabeth to bed a couple hours ago," John said. "With a sleeping pill. And she might be sleeping a bit longer than she expected to, since I... ah... asked Atlantis to mess with her room controls."

Carson chuckled weakly and resolved to seek out and try to make peace with Elizabeth after he woke. He might not agree with her on many things, but he should apologize for his harsh words. She was his friend and he knew she was in agony over what happened. 

Perhaps they should have requested another psychiatrist for Atlantis. Kate was going to have her hands full with the baggage they'd be dealing with after this, he thought.

* * *

John went to bed alone, if you didn't count the sleeping pill. He woke up with an octopus masquerading as a physicist wrapped around him, snoring gently into his ear. It was early, yet, they had time before the official day would start, so John just settled himself more comfortably and let Rodney cling.

This morning didn't feel as bad as the day before, as seen through the lens of a day later and the knowledge of how many girls and babies they'd saved. Only twelve dead due to the virus, out of over two hundred girls. Most of the babies had died, but that was not really due to the virus and John could allow himself a certain amount of surcease from guilt.

In fact, the day before hadn't ended nearly as badly as he had expected. The virus was not contagious among humans, so the girls could all be brought to Atlantis. Many of them would have died in childbirth, being too young or too weak to give birth naturally; those most at risk were alive due to simple C-sections. The Athosians had offered all of them homes on the mainland and two or three had already gone (for at least the millionth time, John thanked any deity listening for the wonder that was the Athosians). Elizabeth and Carson both had gotten sleep and hopefully were still asleep, though he wasn't counting on it, and Rodney was in bed with John. 

All was right with the universe, so to speak.

The arms and legs wrapped around John jerked and tightened briefly before going lax. Rodney snuffled himself awake, nuzzling the back of John's neck and giving John goosebumps.

"G'morning," John murmured. The morning hard-on was missing and John wondered exactly when Rodney had gotten to bed the evening (or morning) before.

"Blaerghph." And that was a pretty damn articulate indicator of Rodney's lack of sleep. "Coffee..." he moaned and John chuckled.

"When did you get in?"

"Wha' timzit?"

"Oh. That late, huh?"

"Ugh." With one last nuzzle, Rodney released John and rolled to his back. "We're ready."

It took John a couple of seconds to realize what that meant. "You-- for the test?"

"Uh-huh. Coffee?" John rolled over and looked at Rodney, who was apparently finding it hard to stay awake. 

"Shouldn't you be trying to get a few more hours sleep?"

"Nuh-uh. Test at 'leven-hundred."

Holy crap. "Holy crap, really?"

Rodney cracked his left eye open and glared blearily at John. "Be a good spouse and get me some coffee, please pretty please," he grumbled with precise diction and John laughed outright.

"For that, I'll get you a whole pot." 

"Promises, promises," Rodney mumbled and he appeared to fall asleep again. 

John was in the middle of putting coffee on when he heard the shower in their bathroom start up, so Rodney going back to sleep must have been a hallucination. He knew what would happen next: Rodney would emerge from the shower, dress, grab some coffee and a Powerbar and disappear into his lab, never to be seen again -- until eleven hundred. John started searching through their cabinets for any real food he might be able to get into Rodney but all he found were some expired MREs.

But he knew how to head off his scientist at the pass.

When Rodney emerged, John was dressed and ready to leave and had Rodney's coffee, prepared as he liked it, in his extra large Tim Horton's cup. When Rodney reached for it, John held it just out of his reach. "C'mon, Rodney, you're going with me to the mess and getting something real to eat -- ah, ah, ah! You don't have to eat it there," he added as soon as Rodney opened his mouth. "You just have to eat _real_ food."

John used the coffee as a lure and a loudly complaining Rodney followed him and it, down the hall to the transporter, then to the mess hall. The bread table was set up just inside and John grabbed two of the cranberry muffins -- one for him and one for Rodney -- and added the last banana-nut muffin for Rodney. "There," he said, grinning as Rodney took a huge bite from the banana-nut muffin. "I'll see you at eleven hundred in the lab."

"Jerk," Rodney said fondly, the word slurred by the muffin and the smile on his face as he waved goodbye. 

Chuckling, John turned to head into the mess proper for the breakfast he could smell waiting for him in the line. He passed a table around which sat several marines and heard, "Fucking faggots," said loudly enough to carry over the general noise of the room. 

John stopped dead and turned around slowly. It didn't take much to figure out who had said it -- Turnbull, a thorn in his side since his arrival on Atlantis and someone who was supposed to have rotated off with the Daedalus. The others at his table looked embarrassed or frustrated, distancing themselves from the man. John sighed and rolled his eyes.

"You know, that's just the kind of thing I hate to hear," he said, in his best put-upon voice. 

Turnbull glared at him, standing up and trying to intimidate John but John wasn't impressed. The guy wasn't as big as Ronon and no one could loom like Ronon.

"You know why I hate hearing it, Turnbull? Because when I hear it, I have to do something about it. So I guess you're asking for double shifts all week."

"You don't have the balls, faggot," Turnbull sneered. 

"Oh, I see, you wanted two weeks. With the graveyard shift in the labs with the scientists. I think I can get behind that." John didn't have to use the command voice often, but it wasn't because he didn't know how to use it.

"You can't do nothing to me, asshole," Turnbull said. "You don't have the _authority_ any more."

"Yes, he does," Caldwell said, from just behind Turnbull. "Just as much as I do. Commander," he nodded to John as Turnbull whipped around.

"Colonel," John acknowledged, raising his eyebrow. Ronon was just behind Caldwell, doing his best glower and Turnbull was decidedly pale.

"And I think two weeks isn't enough, so let's make it three. And Specialist Dex here tells me he needs a new crash test dummy in his training classes. You've just volunteered." Caldwell had a pretty damn good command voice too, John reflected.

"Sir... you..."

"One more word, Corporal, and it'll be a solid month." 

Finally realizing no one at the table was going to come to his rescue and that discretion was indeed the better part of valor, he just stood to attention, swallowing hard. "Yes, sir."

"Dismissed." Caldwell ignored Turnbull as the guy nearly scuttled out of the mess hall, his tail between his legs. "There, Dex, we've solved your problem too."

Ronon nodded and John could tell he was appreciative. "Nice."

John didn't have to say anything to Caldwell; they'd both been over the roster and knew about Turnbull. Instead, they exchanged pleasantries as they went to the line and headed for a table that was empty save for Teyla. "May we join you, Teyla?" Caldwell asked. With a shock, John realized he wasn't using a crutch at all, just a cane as he walked on his own.

"I have finished eating, Steven," Teyla replied, smiling warmly. "But I would be pleased to bear you company while you eat." 

John plopped his tray down and sat next to Teyla, while Ronon and Caldwell sat opposite. "I just realized you're not walking with a crutch," he said to Caldwell, pulling his utensils and napkin out.

"I will be by the end of the day," Caldwell replied with a grimace. "The mornings are pretty good, as long as I'm careful and don't over-exert myself."

"Steven has come a long way in his physical therapy," Teyla said. "Every day he makes more progress."

"That's because I have a tough as nails torturer who takes delight in giving me pain." 

Ronon and John exchanged grins even as Teyla raised her eyebrow. "I would never dream of giving you pain, Colonel," she said, her mischievous smile all over her face.

Caldwell snorted but smiled too, as he got to eating his breakfast. John found himself glad that Teyla and Caldwell were getting along well -- he remembered when Elizabeth had first named Teyla as her 2IC and Caldwell's discomfort with that. Seemed that discomfort was a thing of the past.

"I hear we're due for a demonstration at eleven hundred," Caldwell said, looking up at John.

"A demonstration?" Teyla asked, perking up. "The project Rodney is running?"

"Really?" Ronon asked, looking impressed.

"Yeah, looks like it. After yesterday I wasn't sure they were going to have anything any time soon, but they proved me wrong. Again."

"Well, it wasn't thanks to me," Carter said, behind John. Elizabeth was with her and they both had breakfast trays, Carter's carried awkwardly due to her crutch. He stood, grabbed it and put it on his table. "And I've no doubt Rodney will ream me a new one because of that. Thank you. I guess it's all right if we join you?"

Everyone at the table scooted over. Elizabeth ended up next to Ronon and Carter next to John. "Good morning, by the way," John said, plastering his best innocent face on. "You look well-rested, Elizabeth."

"That's what comes from having sixteen hours of sleep," Elizabeth said, giving him a tepid glare.

"Then you must have needed it," Teyla said.

"Or someone found a way to turn off my auto alarm _and_ the PA system in my quarters," Elizabeth said, still glaring at John.

John rubbed the back of his hand over his mouth to hide his grin. "I have no idea what you're talking about, Elizabeth," he said, and she threw a chunk of her muffin at him.

"Tell me about the test," Teyla said, smacking John's hand just as he was about to flick a bit of his potato at Elizabeth.

Carter shrugged. "We're ready. Radek called in the middle of the night, asked me to go over a few equations, but everything was fine. We're ready to go."

"I've just come from there, dragging Sam with me," Elizabeth said, taking a sip of her coffee. "At least knocks came through my door, thankfully."

Teyla and Caldwell peppered Carter with questions about the test and John listened, hearing the emotions behind the words as much as the words themselves. Elizabeth sounded far more calm, more in control and in charge than she had the day before, and John patted himself on the back for getting her to sleep so long. Now, all they needed was....

"Carson! Over here," Teyla said, waving to the good doctor as he came into the mess. He looked a world better too, obviously having had at least sufficient sleep.

John didn't miss the tension that filled Elizabeth's face as Carson approached. He wanted to reach out his hand and pat hers, but knew it would be too obvious, not low-key enough. Then he noticed Ronon putting his big hand over hers where it rested on the table, balled into a fist. She glanced up at him and he gave her the kindest smile John had ever seen on Ronon, and John saw her relax. 

Huh. Elizabeth and Ronon? How come he never saw those things coming?

Carson hesitated only long enough to note who was at the table. "Let me get my food," he said, ducking his head. 

Silence reigned at the table until Carson returned. He looked at Elizabeth for a long time, then swallowed heavily and said, "Mind if I sit here?"

Elizabeth gave him a tentative smile. "I'll make room." Carter also shifted a bit and Carson sat at the end of the table. 

Teyla was the bravest of them. "How are the children, Carson?"

He pursed his lips and nodded. "Well. They're doing quite well. We haven't lost anyone since we got them here. We still have a hundred seventy or eighty children to be born, but not all at once, thankfully."

"I've contacted Solen on Belkan. He said there're many of my people who would be interested in adopting the babies," Ronon said and John was pleasantly surprised. He hadn't heard about that.

"That's wonderful, Ronon," Carson said, obviously pleased and touched. "The Athosians are going to take many of the girls, and there are a few other worlds, decimated by the Wraith, who are more than happy to take more of the wee bairns."

"Pulling good news out of bad," Caldwell said, nodding.

Elizabeth was concentrating on her tray and when she spoke, her voice was hesitant. "I should tell you all that I've been approached by several women -- and a couple of men -- in the city who are looking to adopt the babies as well." She glanced up and looked at John who gave her his best gentle look. She really had beaten herself up on the whole ugly thing. "It's something we should discuss in the future, but I wanted to put the idea out there."

"Babes? On Atlantis?" Carson didn't sound so much negative as thoughtful. "If we are to be a true colony..."

"That was my thinking," Elizabeth said, and Carson looked at her, just looked at her for a long minute. 

Finally he smiled. "We should bring it up in the staff meeting today," he said, and she gave him a relieved smile in return.

"Carson, there is to be a test at eleven hundred today, will you be there?" Teyla asked after a few minutes.

"Rodney's project?" Carson asked, looking at Carter. "Yours as well, of course, my dear" he hastily added.

Carter laughed. "Yes. It looks good and you should try to be there, take a break."

"Aye!" Carson exclaimed, smacking his forehead. "I would be glad to come, but love, I forgot to tell you. After the test, this afternoon perhaps before the staff meeting, come by the surgery. Kate tells me she thinks Dr. Jackson may be responding to some stimuli. Teal'c tried yesterday afternoon, but she'd like you to try as well."

John didn't have to see Carter's face straight-on to know how she reacted to that news. Maybe they'd all be fine after all.

* * *

"Containment field?"

"Green."

"Generator?"

"Mmmm..." Carter was watching something on her tablet. "Green. Barely."

"We under the safety line?"

"Yes. By eight percent."

"Then we're good." Rodney called up another field. "Monitors?"

"Green."

"Back-up terminals?"

"Green."

"Power cut-offs?"

"Green." Radek gave the last word and then he grinned at Rodney over the tops of their laptops. "We are ready."

Rodney looked at Carter and Novak; both nodded. Novak looked so excited she could have been vibrating in place. Turning to the video pick-up, Rodney said, "Dr. Weir. It appears we are ready to test full recharge of a zero-point module. Do we have your permission?"

The large plasma screen in the containment room antechamber showed Elizabeth, Caldwell, Teyla, Carson, Ronon and a few others all standing in the control room, watching video feed of Rodney talking to them. Sheppard wasn't with them because the freak insisted on being in the antechamber with the rest of the scientists. Why he wanted to do that, Rodney hadn't the least idea.

Elizabeth leaned forward, toward the audio pickup. "Absolutely, Dr. McKay. And good luck."

Rodney smirked into the video pick-up. "I assure you, luck has nothing to do with it. Safety goggles, everyone. Carter, is the chamber evacuated?"

"Yes, it is," Carter replied, putting her goggles on. Rodney turned to Sheppard who already had his on --  he looked like a clichéd space alien. 

"Let's do it, then. Beginning bridge sequence." It hadn't been difficult, actually, in the end. The ZedPMs weren't exactly vacuumed once depleted, but the difficulty had been figuring out where to place the recharging bridge. Discharging was fine, it was easily done with the equipment they had on-hand. And, as it had turned out, the bridges had to be simultaneously created -- literally. There could be no more than one picosecond between the creation of the two bridges or else the refill failed. And probably exploded, but Rodney always tried to focus on the positive.

And it worked. It was perfect, the matter drain picking up precisely at the same time as the fill. It was beautiful, the ZedPM was charging right before his eyes. Novak kept running back and forth between two terminals, pushing extraneous techs out of her way, keeping a weather eye on the Mark II naquadah generator. 

"Carter, are you still in the green?" Rodney demanded, keeping his gaze on the solid-state transfer.

"Yes," Carter replied, "but our margin for error is dropping."

"If it gets below two percent--"

"I know what to do, McKay," she interrupted him, not even looking up.

"Right." Rodney watched the numbers climb with his elation. "We are at forty percent," he announced. He felt like hyperventilating.

"Generator holding at five percent under maximum," Carter reported.

"Containment field holding," Radek announced.

"Monitors are still in the green," Novak said, hiccoughing.

"We are at fifty percent and rising at a steady rate." It was working. _It was working_ and Rodney had an off-hand wish for a paper bag to breathe in.

"We are at sixty-five percent," Rodney said and frowned. The influx was slowly overtaking the outflow and that shouldn't happen. "Carter, the generator?"

"Holding at five percent, what?"

He glanced at her. "The fill rate... We are at seventy-seven percent... it's going too fast."

"Eighty-two percent!" Novak said and Radek began running between terminals. "Eighty-nine -- ninety!"

"Turn it off," Rodney said, then louder, "Shut it down now! Pull the plug!"

Carter cut power and Radek said, "What? Rodney, wh--"

"It's still charging!" Novak yelled and they all turned to the containment chamber. 

"Carter!"

"There's no power to it!" Carter began pulling leads out, checking ports. "How can it be filling with no power going to it?"

"Wait! It's slowing," Radek said. "Slowing, ninety-six percent, ninety-seven, ninety-seven point five... there. It's stopped. The bridges have collapsed." He did the same, over his terminal. "Why did that happen? _How_ did that happen?" 

"It must be a side-effect of the two bridges," Rodney said. He felt absolutely wrung out. "The fill rate began to overtake the--"

"The evacuation rate," Carter finished for him, nodding. "It could have blown."

"But it didn't," Radek said, reaching out his hand to Rodney. "It didn't."

Rodney took Radek's hand and then pulled him into a quick hug. "No, it didn't."

"Rodney? What's going on?" Elizabeth and the others in the command room looked alarmed and confused. Sheppard came over and grinned like a maniac while slapping Rodney on the back.

"Elizabeth, I'm afraid I can't give you a fully charged ZedPM," Rodney said, quite aware his grin was as wide as Sheppard's, as wide as Carter's and Novak's and Radek's. "You'll have to settle for one that's ninety-eight point three-five percent filled, instead."

They heard cheering over the audio feed from the command room -- hell, he could hear it from the east pier, it was that loud -- and saw a field of very relieved smiles. Elizabeth leaned forward again and said, "I think I'm quite happy with that, Dr. McKay. Quite happy indeed."

* * *

"It wasn't that it went _wrong_ , per se," Rodney said, once they'd gotten him off the technobabble and onto words of less than fifteen syllables, "but we didn't account for the two bridges, one evacuating while the other--"

"While the other filled, simultaneously," Carter finished for him and Rodney just gave her a mild dirty look. Elizabeth was impressed; seemed the hatchet was well and truly buried between them, thank goodness. "Think of it like a hose, filled with water. You cut new water off and the water still in the hose--"

"No, it's not like that, it's--"

"It's exactly like that," Novak said, to her apparent surprise. She subsided with a hiccough.

"Whatever it was, you can now account for it, yes?" Elizabeth asked, staving off yet another verbal tussle.

"Yes, yes, the remaining modules are lined up. We don't want to do more than one a day, though," Radek said.

"I don't think my heart could stand it," Rodney muttered, and John bumped him with his shoulder. Despite Rodney's words, they both had wide, happy grins.

"People, this is _excellent_. We will shortly have five -- no, wait, six! -- nearly-full zero-point modules. Let's just take a moment and savor that thought." Elizabeth looked around the briefing table and saw as many happy faces as had been grim or angry in previous days. Yes, they still had the problem of the Ori taking Earth, the Daedalus wasn't completely repaired yet (though Bill Lee had, remarkably, come through on the reactor retrofit), and they still had more than one hundred pregnant little girls to deal with. But even that was good, because Elizabeth's people had stepped into the breach and she had little doubt all the babies would be adopted out by loving couples and singles as fast as they were produced. 

She was going to have to pull the security feed for the conference room to get a still of Rodney's face when John said he was thinking about adopting a 'poor, wee bairn' as well. Then she could get it blown up to poster size. At least.

They went through the rest of the agenda smoothly, for a change. It was as though they'd all realized the worst had happened, nothing else could surprise them. It was a dangerous way to think, she knew, but she couldn't help it.

Lorne, who had gone back to M6H-491 with a team to dispose of the bodies -- both Wraith and human, and Elizabeth was giving thought to raising a memorial to the children who had died on the planet -- confirmed that there were no living Wraith anywhere, even in hibernation. They had not died due to trauma but Elizabeth, talking fast, had denied Dr. Biro's request for some dead Wraith to autopsy, telling her they didn't have time. Carson, to Elizabeth's surprise, backed her up and told Biro he would handle all the questions. 

The bodies were burned, as there were too many of them for any other method of disposal. Rodney had a couple of techs familiar with Wraith hive ship controls going through the control rooms of the ships, looking for information. He'd already discovered the new jamming algorithm, which almost put Rodney and Radek into paroxysms of joy.

It was so _normal_ , so damn good. And Elizabeth congratulated herself that she'd managed to haul her mindset back from the brink of madness, again. Frequently, of late, she felt fragile, as though all her decisions were bad ones or would lead some place wrong and horrible. She'd talked with Kate about it and intellectually, she knew what was wrong: she had a tendency to overreact to certain stimuli, dating from when the Replicators had invaded her body. That her mind knew what was going on wasn't very helpful, though. The pictures John had brought back from M6H-491 were worse than anything she'd seen since she studied the Nuremburg Trial material in college.

She suspected that's where her dreams came from as well. People trying to warn her, to call her, to reach her and not being able to -- her subconscious was apparently having a field day, at her expense.

The last thing on the agenda was Daniel Jackson, and Kate was cautiously optimistic. "It's an atypical catatonia," she said, "because there's quite a lot of brainwave function. We're just not sure why he won't respond to stimuli, though it seems that might be changing, slowly."

"He squeezed my hand," Sam murmured, as if she were too overwhelmed with feeling. "I sat and talked to him, and I think he tried to squeeze my hand."

"It was the same for me," Teal'c confirmed. "I believe Daniel Jackson is still present, but perhaps his consciousness is trapped too far into his mind to return."

"Lost in his mind," Elizabeth said, frowning.

"Indeed."

"It's a good analogy," Kate said, nodding. "The trauma he experienced was so severe, on so many different levels that it wouldn't surprise me to know he's retreated deep into his mind, where he feels none of it can touch him."

"The question is, how can we get him out?" Sam asked, wiping her eyes quickly.

Kate spread her hands and looked unhappy. "I wish I knew. You should sit with him, all of us should, as often as we can. Even if it's just for a few minutes, to tell him how your day went, for example. The more stimuli he gets, the better his chances of coming out of it."

The meeting broke up, everyone thoughtful but at least speaking to each other. John snagged Steven and Elizabeth on the way out, drew them back to have a private word. "We've got long-range scanners picking up two Wraith ships," he said. "They're not heading our way... in fact, they seem to be almost adrift. And I asked Lorne to withhold something from his report on the run through of the hive ships, told him I'd break the news to the two of you in private. He still doesn't know about the virus and I think we should keep it that way."

Elizabeth looked at Steven, alarmed. "What?" she asked.

John took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his neck. "The queens. They weren't there."

Next to her, Steven straightened up. "What?"

"Three hive ships, lots and lots of dead Wraith." John gave them a somber look. "No queens. Anywhere."

Elizabeth wasn't quite sure why that intel sent such a cold spike fear down her spine.

* * *

_Interlude -- Rev. 8:1_

 

"God, this was a good idea," Rodney gasped, flopping back to the bed.

Trying to catch his breath as well, John said, "What, the sex?"

"That too, because sex is never anything but a good idea." Rodney stretched luxuriously on their bed, popping every vertebra in his back methodically; he was almost covered in spunk and sweat. "I mean the taking two days off thing."

"Taking two days off to have sex," John clarified. He stretched himself, feeling a pleasant ache in his ass from Rodney's extremely vigorous fucking. They must have changed position a dozen times, and Rodney had kept John from coming until the top of his head had almost come off. It was worth it, though, John thought with a grin, and it was just their first day of their time off. Sweet.

"And eat. Don't forget eating. And sleeping too." 

"Hey, I think we deserve it. We've been working pretty damn hard around here, lately." John turned to his side and propped his head on his hand. 

"No kidding! Some of us have been working harder than others, you know." 

"Yeah, poor Carson..."

"Carson isn't in bed with us!" Rodney said, his voice testy. John burst out laughing and after a second, Rodney joined him. "Not what I meant, of course..."

"I should hope not." John partially sat up (with a wince that made him smile) and looked past Rodney to the table next to the bed. "Any more of those grape things left?"

"Um, yeah." Rodney snagged a stem full of them and brought them over his body to John. "I don't care if these things have seeds, they're the best damn grapes I've ever eaten."

"They're like Concord grapes," John replied, popping one of the huge, dark purple fruits in his mouth and almost moaning in pleasure as the sweet, juicy thing exploded in his mouth. "You ever had those?"

"Uh-uh." Rodney pulled one off for himself and sucked it into his mouth with an equally transported expression. 

It looked so good that it made John want more of a taste. He spit the seed out onto the floor with the others -- Ancient vacuums were a thing of beauty -- and grabbed another, biting down. By then, Rodney had spit his own seed out and John bent down, the grape between his teeth, to share.

Rodney looked briefly surprised then caught on, opening his mouth and sharing the juice, until it was gone but for the seed. "I like your ideas," Rodney said, his voice husky. He put another grape in John's mouth and they shared it as well, trading it back and forth again. 

They shared the rest of the grapes that way, and it was so good, so very hot. John looked over the tray of food they'd set up next to their bed, looking for something else to share. Not the crackers, but maybe the cheese?

Rodney must have figured out what he was doing, because he said, "Better idea," and opened the last bit of the package of Toblerone chocolate they'd gotten as a housewarming gift from Radek. "I'm glad I saved some of this," Rodney said, looking wicked.

"Huh?" John looked at the dark chocolate in confusion. "What do you... oh."

The chocolate was rich and dark and all it took to make it soft and malleable was Rodney's hand around one corner; then he was painting John's chest with it. He dragged a dark stripe down the middle of John's chest, then over his nipples, pressing firmly and leaving a trail behind. Then he leaned down and began lapping it up, swirling his tongue in John's chest hair and dragging it up the trail, like a cat. By the time he reached John's nipples John was already squirming in pleasure.

"Jesus, Rodney," John breathed.

"You're just so hot you melt chocolate," Rodney said with a grin.

John snorted in laughter then his eyes rolled back in his head as Rodney started painting him again. It was terribly messy, but what the hell, they already had grape seeds all over the carpet and he was pretty sure they still had a clean set of sheets. "We should have gotten some wine," John gasped as Rodney licked chocolate from his abdomen.

"Nah, who needs it?" Rodney replied, running the semi-soft chocolate over John's groin and laying a stripe of it up his half-hard cock. When he bent to suck it off, John felt like he was going to melt into the mattress, much like the chocolate was melting into him.

When Rodney took a break, John grabbed the chocolate from him. "My turn," he murmured, shoving Rodney back to the bed and looming over him. He wouldn't have thought chocolate mixed with salty stuff like sweat and semen would be tasty, but it was. Or maybe it was just the taste of Rodney with the  chocolate that made it so damn good.

Or, maybe, it was the fact that they could do what they were doing -- take their time, play, be silly and tender with each other and not worry about schedules, the constant threat of danger, any of it.

By the time the chocolate was mostly gone, they were both hard and panting again. John flipped Rodney over and pulled his hips up. He loved rimming Rodney because Rodney being rimmed was hilarious, from the inarticulate and multi-lingual cursing to the trembling and fidgeting. John didn't top often, since he was a happily self-described bottom, but when he did, he tried to make it the very best he could. Rodney had certainly never complained and John made sure he wouldn't have any this time, either.

They had a whole strip of lubricated condoms, all pre-torn for easy access, even with sticky or slick fingers. The lube -- like the food, sweat and semen -- was pretty much everywhere and they were both so relaxed there wasn't much prep time needed anyway. Once John got Rodney's hole nice and slick with his tongue, he smoothed a condom on and pressed in, one long, slow glide into tight heat.

"Oh, Christ," Rodney moaned, shoving back. "Move already!"

John chuckled. Rodney was as pushy a bottom as he was a top and John had no intention of following any of his orders. He wanted to drive Rodney as crazy as Rodney had driven him, earlier. Payback was absolutely fabulous.

He made a few lazy thrusts, grinning to hear Rodney alternately pleading and demanding, before pulling out completely.

"Hey!" Rodney only had time for one brief complaint before John had him on his back, legs pressed up.

"Can't kiss you, can't see you when you're on your knees," John explained, pressing back inside and watching Rodney's eyes roll up in his head. He leaned down and kissed Rodney, briefly, before beginning to thrust in as deep and slow a rhythm as he could.

By the time they both came, what felt like hours later, they were limp as dishrags and even sweatier and stickier than before. They dozed for a while, John's head on Rodney's shoulder, until bladders and stomachs insisted they get up. 

They ate in their kitchen, not bothering to dress, standing next to each other and stealing each other's food. Rodney put some classical music on his laptop, which he'd figured out how to broadcast to their apartment's PA, while he cleaned the kitchen. John cleaned up the bedroom, pulling sheets off the bed and putting fresh ones on. 

It was all so domestic and relaxing that it almost freaked John out. He had to keep reminding himself that he was still in Atlantis, that there were still bad guys out there after them, that the Ori held Earth and needed to be dealt with. Then Rodney would sneak up behind John and plant a wet, sucking kiss to the back of his neck and he would just start grinning again, finding it nearly impossible to be worried. 

They took a shower together in their large shower stall (one of the main reasons John loved their apartment) and tumbled back into bed, arguing about which movie to watch on John's laptop. They ended up watching _Buckaroo Banzai_ for the hundredth time and by the time it was over, it was getting dark.

"Oughta check up on email," Rodney said, putting John's laptop aside.

"Nah."

"We're going to have to figure out something, you know. It's been... what? Four months?"

"Something like that." John pulled Rodney over, partially on top of him, letting Rodney's head settle on John's shoulder. "Time's just flown. The Daedalus is pretty much done, but we still have stuff to do."

"And we can't exactly go after the Ori with just the Daedalus and a prayer."

John sighed. "Nope."

"Kate said the other day that she thought Jackson might be responding better."

Sweeping his hand up and down Rodney's back, John studied the ceiling. They really needed to do something with it, put up some glow in the dark star stickers or something cheesy like that. Maybe paint it, dark blue, like the sky. "We're not going to be able to do much without him," he said. "We need that weapon. We need _him_."

"Stuck in his own mind," Rodney murmured, and John could tell he was on the verge of sleep.

"Yeah." If only there were a way to get him out, help him find a door.

* * *

In the middle of the night, more towards dawn than sunset, Rodney had a strange, very intense dream. He barely remembered what it was about... something about people from the sun yelling at him over some damn thing or other. But it made him sit right up in bed, holding a shout back by the skin of his teeth.

"Rodney?" John slurred, reaching out, touching him.

"Replicators," Rodney gasped. "Of course, Replicators. Why didn't I think of it sooner?"

* * *

_Part Two -- Rev. 13:11-12_

 

The meeting was for the members of what Elizabeth had come to call her 'security council' -- Steven, John, Rodney, Samantha and, thankfully, Carson and Teyla. They were the lucky seven who got to make and break policy on Atlantis, who knew before anyone else what needed to be done. Who did what needed to be done or delegated it out.

Or not.

"Absolutely not." Sam's voice was flat and emotionless.

"Look, Carter, you--"

"No, you look, McKay! You don't know those damn Replicators like I do! I will not sit by and--"

"We get it, Carter!" Rodney was being as reasonable as he could, but Elizabeth was in Sam's camp. "We've been through it--"

"Not the way I have!"

"I have to agree with Colonel Carter," Elizabeth said, sharply interrupting. She had her own damn issues with the Replicators. "Leaving aside for the moment that they are _machines_ incapable of true human emotion, you know they would have their own agenda. If they thought they should have Daniel for whatever reason -- or if they thought he should die -- no. We'd have no control over it."

"If anyone has a better suggestion, I'm open to it!" Rodney said earnestly. "I'd love to find an Ancient device which would allow us to get into his brain and help him but unfortunately, I don't know of any."

"He's responding more every day," Sam began, but Rodney cut her off.

"Yes, he is, but how much longer are we looking at here? Another couple of months? Years? How long do we have before the Ori start destroying Earth because Earth won't bend to them?" Rodney's voice was almost shaking and Elizabeth noted John had one hand on the back of Rodney's neck, stroking gently. "Sam, it's already been close to six months!"

"There has to be another way," Sam said, sounding desperate.

"Look, I wouldn't have proposed this if I didn't think we had a chance, a way to control them, to get them to help us," Rodney continued. "We haven't heard a word from them since they killed the Lanteans and we killed them. If they still wanted to kill us, I don't think they would have waited this long."

"You know we can't guess their thoughts, how they think or why," Elizabeth said. She felt suddenly cold and wrapped her arms around herself.

"All we're saying here," John said, leaning forward, "is to try. Contact them from a neutral position. Find out why they've been quiet, why they haven't come after us again. Maybe they feel their grudge has been satisfied with the death of the Ancients we found."

"And if it hasn't?" Steven asked, glancing at Elizabeth.

John shrugged. "If they've been planning to kill us, contacting them isn't going to change those plans. And if not, I doubt just calling to say hi would be sufficient to change their minds."

There was silence at the table, as everyone thought over the proposal. Elizabeth sat still, trying to keep calm, but the Replicators had been her Achilles heel for some time. Their attempt on her mind still gave her shivers, still made her second-guess herself at times. Her first impulse -- apparently shared with Sam -- was to run, run as far away and fast as she could. 

But she was also honest with herself, she had to be. Rodney might be right, those monsters might actually be their best hope for Daniel, and until Daniel came back from within his mind, they were stuck on Atlantis, unable to help Earth. One ship did not a force make.

She took a deep breath. "I need to think about this," she said, finally. "I think maybe we all should, just sleep on it. Come back to it tomorrow." She looked around the table trying to see where everyone's thoughts were. Sam, especially Sam, had good reason to hate and fear the Replicators. So did Elizabeth, so did everyone at the table except Steven, who had read the mission reports and knew what was going on.

Rodney sighed but nodded. John did as well. "I just want you all to know," John said, "that my first reaction was negative too. It might be grasping at straws, but we're just about ready to return to the Milky Way and as it stands now, we don't have a snowball's chance in hell."

Elizabeth nodded. "Understood. Let's table this and come back to it tomorrow. Same time?"

The meeting broke up in silence. Elizabeth went back to her office and tried to work -- lord knew, there was enough work for her to do -- but her mind kept skittering back to the nightmare life the Replicators had made for her, the life they tried to impose upon her in order to control her. At least, that's what she thought their motivations were. Who really knew?

* * *

John was on his way to his office from a meeting with Elizabeth and Caldwell when the 'gate began to dial and Sergeant Campbell announced, "Unscheduled off-world activation!"

Elizabeth and Caldwell walked across the bridge to the control room. "Do we have an IDC?" Elizabeth asked.

After a moment, Campbell replied, "Yes. It's the Genii, ma'am."

"Oh, joy," John heard Elizabeth mutter. "The new IDC, I take it?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm getting a signal, audio and video."

"Put it on the screen."

The big plasma screen overlooking the command room fuzzed then cleared, showing Ladon Radim's face. "Dr. Weir."

"Mr. Radim," Elizabeth acknowledged. "Good to see you again. How are the Genii faring?"

"We're well, still struggling to regroup after Kolya's death, but we're on the right road. Thanks to Dr. McKay's shielding advice, we're doing better than even our doctors expected. And how is Atlantis?"

"We're doing very well, thank you, and thank you for the tava bean shipment."

"You're most welcome." He nodded, acknowledging pleasantries over. "I've been provided some rather strange information I'd like to share with you," he said.

"We'd be glad to hear it," Elizabeth replied. 

"We've had reports from some of our trading partners -- specifically the Manarians but there have been others -- that there have been Wraith hive ships in proximity to their planets but there have been no cullings, no approach by any Wraith vessel, large or small. The hive ships appear and go right by, as if adrift. In fact, we've heard of _no_ cullings over the last few weeks, at all. Now, we're not saying that's a bad thing, necessarily..."

"But it is odd, and maybe something to investigate," Elizabeth finished for him, nodding. John rather envied her acting ability; she looked mildly puzzled and interested. "Have you looked into it?"

"We've been unable to supply manpower to anything but home guard and farming," Radim replied, his voice perfectly sad and apologetic. 

"I understand. Can you supply a list of planets where this has happened?"

"Certainly," he replied, nodding to someone off-screen. There was a beep on the comm console and a technician nodded to Elizabeth. "I thought you might want to take a look, and hope that you'll be willing to share any information you might find."

"We'd be happy to share, Mr. Radim, as always," Elizabeth replied with a warm smile. "And thank you for this information. Perhaps this is good news."

"Perhaps it is -- I do believe we're due for some. Please give my regards to Colonel Sheppard, Dr. McKay and Dr. Beckett." John had stayed out of range of the camera pickup, deliberately.

"I certainly will. And please remember, should the need arise for aid, Atlantis would be willing to help the Genii as much as we are able."

Radim's mouth turned up in a half smile, one that looked puzzled. "Thank you, Dr. Weir."

Elizabeth inclined her head. "You're welcome. Good day, Ladon."

"And to you, Elizabeth." The monitor went fuzzy briefly then dead.

"Can you forward that list to my laptop?" Elizabeth asked the tech, who replied, "Already done, ma'am."

"Good. John? Steven?" They all trooped back to her office and sat in the chairs they'd just vacated while Elizabeth opened her laptop and called up the message. She inhaled sharply and John found himself tensing. "There are fourteen worlds referenced here," she said, her voice barely a murmur. "I'm no Rodney, but I think these are all over the galaxy."

John traded a look with Caldwell. "Could the virus have spread this quickly? It's only been a couple of  months!" he said.

"We're going to need to do a little reconnaissance, I think," Caldwell said. 

"We still have those two hive ships on long-range sensors," John said, nodding. "They appear to be just drifting between systems." 

"Colonel Carter tells me the Daedalus is nearly ready to fly again," Caldwell said, nodding. "I could take her to those two drifters, it might be a perfect shake-down mission."

"If we can wait just a bit longer," John said, "Rodney thinks he's going to be able to interface our cloaking tech with the Daedalus' shield."

"Excellent," Caldwell said, his face lighting up. "I've been wanting that for a long time. Will we be able to run shield and cloak together?"

"I'm not sure, but I'll ask him. If you want to come down to the east pier labs, we can both check."

"Hold it, before you run away," Elizabeth said, holding out her hand. "Steven, I think we ought to do a little 'gate recon as well. I'm not willing to send out my prime team at present; can we set up some 'gate teams, heavy on the military?"

"Sheppard and I have already gone over the roster and selected certain personnel," Caldwell said, leaning forward in his chair, propping himself up with his cane. "Do we need to send a scientist with them on this recon?"

John frowned in thought. "My gut reaction is no," he said, looking between Caldwell and Elizabeth. "Though maybe we should put the anthropologists on notice that we may need them."

"Either way, it's seeing McKay," Caldwell replied. "Let's go talk to him, see how we're standing. I'm willing to bet Carter's there too, we could get even more info."

"Sounds good," Elizabeth said, nodding. "Check back in with me, after."

"How about dinner tonight?" John suggested. "This isn't very sensitive, we could meet in the mess hall at eighteen-hundred."

"Sounds like a plan."

Caldwell was getting around very well lately. He'd given up the crutch completely and was only using the cane, impressive progress. John barely had to slow down to match his pace, and they were at the transporter and from there to the east pier in just a few minutes. "Do you think the Genii know about the Daedalus and Earth?" Caldwell asked, as they trekked down to the astrophysics lab.

"I don't know," John replied, with a grimace. "But I'd be surprised if they didn't know something was up with us. And I'd be more surprised if they didn't know about the kids and babies. That's all this might be, a fishing expedition, hoping to net some intel."

Caldwell grunted sourly. He might not have had a chance to work with the Genii personally, but he knew of them and what they were capable of.

Rodney and Carter were in a side lab, running what looked like simulations. "Yo, Rodney."

He looked up, irritated as usual. "Commander, Colonel, to what do we owe this interruption?"

"Just wanted an update on how the Daedalus is coming," John said. "And whether you've gotten that cloak-shield ready."

"Why? Are we now under some arbitrary time limit?"

"I'd like to go see those two hive ships that have been drifting on the long-range scanners," Caldwell said. "Could we use that as a shake-down cruise?"

Rodney frowned and looked at Carter, who shrugged but seemed amenable. He leaned back in his chair to see the larger room and yelled, "Hey, Zelenka!"

Radek's head popped up from behind his laptop. "What do you want _now_ , McKay?!"

"Think you could have that Daedalus cloak ready in four days?"

"If you stop bothering me, yes!" Radek yelled back, then disappeared behind the bank of laptops again.

"There. Four days, which is when Carter and I had planned for a test flight anyway." He looked again at Carter. "Those ships are what, a couple hundred lightyears away? Easy subspace hop."

Carter nodded. "That's good. It gives us enough time to test all the new equipment and materials before-hand."

John nodded, glanced over at Caldwell who was also nodding, and said, "Sounds good to me."

"I'm ready to get back into my ship again," Caldwell added. "Ready and then some."

"Fine. Four days. Now go away." Rodney turned back to the console he was working on and ignored them.

* * *

Four days. The question about the Replicators had been tabled and then tabled again, pending the outcome of the 'gate teams' investigation and the Daedalus prep to test flight. Elizabeth had sent out two dozen teams, mostly military, to various worlds including the ones on the list from the Genii. They'd found nothing -- literally. The worlds hadn't been culled (again or for the third or fourth time) and all of them had noted hive ships just drifting along.

The strangest one was on P2M-859, where a hive ship had actually crashed into the ocean. The residents of that world were on what could end up being a year-long celebration because of it. How long would it be before someone found a hive ship carrying only dead Wraith? How long before someone cared enough to autopsy a dead Wraith and discovered what had killed it? And was there anyone in Pegasus with sufficient knowledge and ability to trace the tailored virus back to Atlantis?

Rodney was on the Daedalus, in engineering with Carter and Novak. He was standing at Hermiod's station -- and wouldn't life have been easier if the damned Asgard hadn't flown the coop? -- running the last of the pre-flight checks. She was ready, better than new. But she was still not enough to go after the Ori, not alone.

The pre-test flight went off without a hitch. They boosted her into orbit and opened a brief hyperspace window, tested her guns and her sensors and the cloak-shield -- the last a very, very good thing. Because they could afford to put two mostly-full ZedPMs in the Daedalus, they were able to combine her shielding with the Ancient cloaking tech, which meant she had both shields and cloak, simultaneously. It was sweet, even if Rodney said so himself. She didn't even show up on the Atlantis sensors unless they tagged her with a special subspace broadcast beacon.

Having proven to everyone that the Daedalus was ship-shape, they got down to their longer test flight to visit those hive ships that had been on the long-range scanners for weeks. Sheppard had made sure there were extra hazmat suits onboard before they broke orbit, not even lying about their presence, just smiling and letting people think what they would. It was, after all, pretty much common knowledge that _something_ had gone wrong with the Wraith, and the population of Atlantis and many other worlds in Pegasus really didn't care much what it was, only that they weren't being fed upon. It was an assumption Rodney hoped would cover their tracks in the long run.

The two hive ships were about a day using a standard hyperspace window. There was no need to hurry, though Rodney felt increasingly nervous the closer they got to the ships. They'd settled in, they'd slept -- in Rodney's case with Sheppard for a couple of hours on a really too-small bed -- and eaten breakfast, which might or might not have been a good thing. And now, they were here. 

Carter and Rodney had worked hard on the upgrades to the Daedalus, Carter saying they were things she'd wanted to do forever. One of the upgrades was tying the HUD into the Daedalus' systems, allowing both her captain and her techs to see exactly what was out there. It was an order of magnitude better than the sensor display that the Daedalus had been using, and in this case, gave them a good glimpse of anything living on the hive ships -- which was nearly nothing.

Caldwell was peering at the display, which they'd set up just below the main viewport off the bridge. "That can't be right," he said, "Four? In two ships?"

Sheppard was standing next to Rodney, but Rodney couldn't look. If he did, he'd give them all away.

"Does it compensate for Wraith who are hibernating?" Sheppard asked quietly.

"We're pretty sure it does," Carter replied, distracted by her readouts. "Four life signs, and they look very weak too."

"So, what are our options?" Caldwell asked. "We can take a jumper over or transport a team."

"We've all swallowed the piezoelectric homing beacons," Sheppard said, turning to Caldwell. "I can lead a small team, wearing hazmat suits just in case, and do a quick recon. You should be able to track us by way of the transmitter and if our radio contact is broken, you can beam us out immediately."

Caldwell began nodding as Sheppard spoke. "I think that's a good idea. Small team -- you, four marines and two technicians."

"Rodney," Sheppard said, turning to him. "You game?"

Rodney took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "As I'll ever be," he muttered.

"Don't worry, Rodney, we'll beam you out at the first sign of trouble." Carter smiled at him, patting his arm. 

"Yeah, yeah," Rodney replied, trying to give her a smile in return.

It turned out wearing the hazmat suits was a good thing, because the hive ship stank, far more than normal. There were dead and decaying bodies everywhere, and Rodney decided it had really not been a good idea to eat breakfast.

"Daedalus, this is Sheppard, do you copy?"

"Loud and clear, Commander," Caldwell replied.

"It looks like we've got a Flying Dutchman here, no crew other than dead Wraith. The two life signs for this hive are up towards the bridge, so we're heading that way now."

"Understood. Keep in touch."

"Will do." Sheppard cut the connection and looked to the team. "McKay, Jaans, you're with me. Harris and Phillips, you're on our six and Edwards, you and Poole take point. We're heading forward."

It was slow going because they had to step over dead Wraith and every time they did, Rodney felt himself flinch. His balls were trying to retreat into his body and his heart was pounding so loud he couldn't understand why no one else could hear it.

They were all armed to the teeth, even Rodney and Jaans, but Rodney was glad to leave the fighting to the professionals. By the time they made it forward, to the queen's chamber, Rodney was swimming in sweat. It was so damn quiet, so eerie and bizarre. But when he walked into the queen's chamber, he realized he didn't know what bizarre was.

One of the life signs was a queen and she was slumped over her 'throne' with a half-grown child -- the other life sign -- draped across her lap. They weren't dead, but didn't appear to be very alive either. The queen looked up as they entered the room. "Humans." Her voice was filled with venom. "Come to finish your handiwork?"

Rodney could tell Sheppard had activated his radio link, even though he didn't identify himself. "Well, hello there, your highness," he drawled. Rodney could hear the underlying tension beneath the flippancy. "Looks like you might be in need of some help here. Roadside assistance, so to speak. Jump your battery?"

"What have you done to us?" she said, her voice low and breathless. "We sicken and die and none of us can discover how. We try to feed and cannot, the lives grow stale. My spawn dies in my arms and I cannot save her." Her breathing grew louder, the one in her arms groaned and Rodney almost felt sorry for them. Almost. "We are your masters," she gasped weakly.

"So sorry, but there's been a change in management. Didn't you get the memo?" John's voice was flat and cold and Rodney shivered. "Don't really know what's happened, but I can't be all that upset it did."

She stared at them, at John. "You. You did this, somehow. We will..." she began to cough and the child in her arms thrashed, as if in  pain. "Revenge... we will..."

"Now, y'see, I really hate to disappoint you on that, but..." John lifted his zat and shot them both. As he shot the older one, the young one slipped off her lap and her head landed with a crack on the floor of the dais. "Bag 'em both," he said to the marine detail. McKay, Jaans, you go to the command room -- you remember where it is?" The last was directed to Rodney, who nodded. "Good. Harris, Poole, you're with them. Leave your radios live. Daedalus, did you copy that conversation?"

"Affirmative, Commander."

"We're going to check for any self-destruct mechanism and then beam back over."

"Understood. Leaving the channel active."

It didn't take Rodney long to get to the command room, and even less time to download what he needed -- the whereabouts of every other hive ship in the galaxy. They might have been embroiled in civil war, but the Wraith appeared to be more social than ants.

They were beamed back aboard the Daedalus after a half hour and were put through decontam, just in case. Their 'prisoners' were sequestered in an air-tight room and just like that, they were done.

"Do really need to go to the other ship?" Rodney said, trying to keep his voice from whining, but oh, God he didn't want to go.

"I don't see why," Sheppard replied, with a glance at Caldwell. "We've got what we came here for."

"Are they close enough for one nuke?" Caldwell asked, looking from Carter to McKay. "I'd like to save a few."

Carter looked at Rodney and shrugged. "They should be. They're almost touching, in space terms."

"Good. Beam a nuke to one of them, set it for five minutes and we'll back off to a safe distance, make sure it's done. I think we can declare this mission as an unqualified success, ladies and gentlemen, thank you."

One nuke did indeed take out both ships. They were still worried about the cruisers, though not the darts. "The hive ships acted like a carrier group, with attendant cruisers," Sheppard explained, as they headed home. "So we have two hive ships and no cruisers?"

"Hmm. That's a good point," Caldwell said. "But I would find it hard to believe that whatever took out the two hive ships -- or maybe more -- wouldn't have affected the cruisers too."

Rodney stayed out of the debate; he felt plenty guilty enough as it was. In between tasks, he found himself drawn to the quarantine room where the two female Wraith were. They were strapped to beds and Carter told him that their air was laced with a soporific that worked on anything that breathed. 

Looking at the Wraith child, Rodney saw Ellia, the Wraith who had been raised a human. Carter and Beckett were going to be thrilled with her, a captive glimpse into Wraith physiology. Carson still persisted in thinking he could 'cure' the Wraith, but if the virus had spread this far, this fast, then it looked like he wouldn't get another chance to play god with them again. And Rodney really didn't have a clue how that made him feel.

* * *

There were times when Teyla wanted to 'kick a few butts' as Commander Sheppard might say, times when those from Earth truly tested her patience and good will. She loved them almost as much as she loved her own people; indeed, she considered them all one people -- at least those from Atlantis -- but a mother could love her child even while disciplining him. 

When Elizabeth had asked Teyla to be her second in command, Teyla had been touched and gratified to know that Elizabeth trusted her so well. And when John put so much at risk just to retrieve Ronon from the Wraith, Teyla knew those of Atlantis had truly become as family to her, just as John had described. 

Family -- where she was the mother doing her best to keep from yelling.

The report from the mission to the hive ships was grim, yes. But they had killed all the Wraith on two hive ships which they had not even seen, much less infected with the virus. It had spread that fast, done that good a job. John could point to the cocooned humans who died on the hive ships when the life support to them had failed, but dying cocooned or dying by being eaten... there was a clear choice.

Teyla wanted to dance on the tables, celebrate the possible end to the Wraith, but instead she was forced into sobriety. 

"The child and queen are still alive, barely," Carson said, during his report. It was a smaller meeting than the general one, and Elizabeth had told her she considered the seven of them the 'core council,' those who made the touchiest of decisions. "Scans show a much slower breakdown of the internal organs than with the original virus. And there's something else -- the queens, or females, I assume -- are more like humans than the others of the Wraith. Their physiology is radically different from those of males I've seen."

Carson was another one, a doctor, a pacifist, one who tried to help everyone. He'd told her once about how he became a doctor on Earth, how he had taken an oath of 'first, do no harm.' It was a charming sentiment, and on Earth, no doubt a necessary one. But in Teyla's galaxy, it was not a particularly useful one. "I've also managed to synthesize a cure for the virus," Carson continued. "Though I believe that it will only be useful on humans who have been infected."

"Still, it's a good thing to have. I think we're going to have to share this with the Genii; well, everything but the virus information," Elizabeth said, and Teyla nodded. The Genii were a puzzle to her, more like those of Earth than Teyla's people. She had never imagined they would be capable of or even want to hide something from her, from everyone. 

"We're going to need to spread the word about the Wraith, have people on the alert for cruisers," John said, and again, Teyla nodded. So many sacrificed, so many gone, dead, destroyed. And maybe, just maybe, it would never happen again.

"I'd like to bring up the Replicator topic," Rodney said and Teyla noted nearly everyone at the table slumped. Samantha had told her what the Replicators had done to her, and it was truly horrible. Teyla remembered her own torture at their 'hands' and the excruciating pain it had caused in her. But she was afraid Rodney was right -- if they needed Dr. Jackson and the weapon he carried in his mind, they were first going to have to go into his mind to retrieve him. And of the things she knew the Replicators could do, one of them was what she had come to call mind-walking. 

"Yes, but I'd like to table it one more day," Elizabeth said, and Teyla frowned. This was not normal behavior for Elizabeth, this avoidance. She should possibly have a conversation with Elizabeth, do as Kate had advised her to do and just _listen_ to Elizabeth, see if she could help.

Before they could discuss the topic further, there was the alarm klaxon and the notification of off-world activation of the stargate. Teyla heard Elizabeth mutter, "Saved by the bell," before she touched her radio. "Do we have an IDC, Sergeant?" 

"Yes, ma'am," Teyla heard in her own radio. "It's the Genii, the new code."

Everyone in the room sighed and shook their heads, even as they rose to leave. "Better you than me," John said to Elizabeth, in passing. 

Teyla began to stand, but Elizabeth touched her arm. "Are you available? I'd like to have you there with me. I think you understand them better than I do."

"Of course, Elizabeth," Teyla replied, inclining her head. 

By the time they emerged from the conference room, Ladon Radim was on the large screen in the command room. "Mr. Radim, you have excellent timing, we were going to call you shortly."

He smiled, but Teyla noted shadows in his eyes. "Then I have saved you some time," he said. "Were you going to contact us with good news?"

"Well, yes, I suppose you could call it that," Elizabeth said, hesitating slightly. "We've had two hive ships on our long-range scanners for some time... they weren't moving and were near no populated worlds. We took a trip to visit them yesterday, and... well..." Elizabeth pinched the bridge of her nose. "They -- all the Wraith on them were dead, and had been for some time."

It was more difficult to read body language when the body was being shown on a screen, but Teyla felt that he was shaken, more alarmed than happy. "This is..." He swallowed. "This is excellent news, astounding news." He was silent for a moment, then spoke again. "May I come through to visit face to face? Myself only, no entourage."

Both Commander Sheppard and Colonel Caldwell were gone, but Teyla had the feeling Elizabeth wanted their input before deciding, which again, was not normal for Elizabeth. Finally she spoke. "Of course." She turned to Sergeant Campbell. "Lower the shield, please, and have a detail waiting."

The marines on stargate duty knew the Genii well and didn't have to be told twice to be on guard. But Radim was alone, as he had said, and while he noted the guards, he didn't mention them. Elizabeth and Teyla met him in front of the stargate, as it closed behind him. "Welcome back to Atlantis, Mr. Radim. I know you remember Teyla Emmagan," Elizabeth said as she inclined her head in greeting.

"Yes, of course. It's good to see you again, Teyla. Is there somewhere we could talk?"

"Certainly. My office awaits."

In short order, they were sitting comfortably in Elizabeth's office, each holding warm beverages. "Thank you for meeting with me," Radim began. "Your news has... well, I suppose the proper word to use is shock. It has shocked me."

"Believe me, it rather shocked us as well," Elizabeth said, the easy lies dripping from her tongue. "We found two hive ships, loaded with dead Wraith and unfortunately dead humans, those who had been cocooned." She sighed. "I wish we had gone earlier to see them, but the Daedalus was having some maintenance done and was out of commission for a while."

"I see," Radim said, though it was clear to Teyla he did not. "There was no living being aboard either ship?"

"Actually, there was," Elizabeth said. "The queen was still alive, with her progeny, a young Wraith girl. They were in very bad shape, though, and Dr. Beckett believes they will die soon. We brought them back to Atlantis as part of trying to figure out what killed the other Wraith and is killing them, and whether whatever it was could hurt humans."

"And your findings?" Radim asked, leaning forward. He was eager for knowledge, but Teyla could still see some fear beneath.

"Dr. Beckett is working on them now. He's told us not to expect any information for at least a day -- the Daedalus just got in this morning."

"Ah." Radim leaned back and Teyla watched Elizabeth study him. "Could I... Would it be possible to see them? The queen and child?"

Elizabeth frowned, but did not look upset with the question. "I don't see why not, but let me ask; I'll just be a moment." She rose and left the room, closing the door behind her.

Radim immediately turned to Teyla, naked fear on his face. "What have they done?" he whispered. "How did they do it?"

Teyla was as much a diplomat as Elizabeth; she knew that was one of the things that made her so precious to the Atlanteans. "I am not certain I know what you refer to," she said carefully.

He sighed and looked down at his tea. "Yes, I believe you do. They are not like us, Teyla, they were not born here. And you know as well as I do that their science is years and years ahead of our own, perhaps even equal to that of the Ancestors." 

Studying him, Teyla realized his underlying fear was born of the people of Atlantis, not of the Wraith or any retribution the Wraith might take. It made her choice harder. Finally, she began to speak. "I must tell you something," she said, keeping her voice soft but not whispering. She kept one eye on the bridge leading to Elizabeth's office, knowing she could give Elizabeth a sign to keep her away for a longer time. "It is something they have taught me about their home planet, Earth."

He frowned but nodded, and she continued. "Earth has never known any deprivation from anyone or anything from space. There are many billions of humans there, just on the one planet. Until recently, they known of  no life other than themselves, since their stargate was buried many thousands of years ago."

"Billions?" Radim breathed, blinking in surprise.

"Yes. I have been there, and I can attest it is so. But, you see, there is a problem with that many humans and no outside source of aggression, of war. When there is no one else to fight, they -- we -- fight amongst ourselves. Wars on Earth were devastating, sometimes consuming nearly the whole planet."

Radim looked away and Teyla knew he was thinking of his own world's history.

"There was a war, quite recently, in which some people grouped into an area called 'Germany' decided that there was only one true human. They called them Aryans, and they were supposed to be tall and blond and beautiful -- still human, just 'superior' humans. To achieve the goal of the world populated with only Aryans, the Germans began to round up all the other humans who did not look or think or act like Aryans. The lucky ones died immediately. The rest..." 

Teyla trailed off. Elizabeth was in the command room and when she saw Teyla's signal, she nodded and stepped back, out of immediate sight. "For the rest," Teyla continued, "their lives were horrifying. Experiments, surgery without anesthesia, torment." She had to stop again, to take a breath. "From what has been described to me, it was worse than the Wraith because at least the Wraith have a _purpose_ \-- using us as food. The Germans, apparently, simply did not like how other people looked."

Radim seemed profoundly shocked; he had gone pale and his jaw dropped. "This was... it was human against human?"

"Yes." Teyla nodded. "What the Germans tried to do is called 'genocide' and it is where one set of people -- humans or non-humans -- systematically destroy another race or type of people, until there is nothing left of them. We have seen the Wraith do this, destroy an entire world and the people inhabiting it."

"The Hoffans," Radim said, swallowing.

"You begin to understand. This genocide was considered so heinous that the people of Earth have vowed to never let it happen again. Not even to enemies, like the Wraith." Teyla gave him an earnest look, trying to convey all that she had found worthy in those Earthers who lived on Atlantis. "Genocide is an evil thing, Ladon. But you are right -- we are not them. They do not have the same experiences with the Wraith that you and I do. And you know Dr. Beckett, he has actually tried to _save_ injured Wraith, because that is what he does. He saves lives, does not take them."

Radim looked away, lifted his hand and seemed surprised to find he was still holding a cup in it. He took a deep drink, and Teyla mirrored him, taking a drink of her tea as well. Elizabeth came into her view and she nodded, signaling that Elizabeth should return.

"I've spoken with Dr. Beckett," Elizabeth said, taking her seat. She looked at Radim then at Teyla, who just nodded gravely. "The queen is near death, but they are both in an isolation chamber which has an upper-level window. I can take you there, if you'd like."

"Thank you," Radim said. He finished his tea and left his cup on Elizabeth's desk. "I'd like that. Will I be able to see Dr. Beckett? My sister sends him greetings."

"Yes, certainly. This way." Elizabeth led them to the infirmary and to the isolation room, where once they had experimented on a Wraith, turned him human enough for his fellow Wraith to feed of him. Teyla remembered that time well, and remembered the sickness in her belly, watching one Wraith feed on another -- one who had been turned human.

It was not a long walk. Radim stood at the window and looked down at the two figures, one large, the other small, both strapped to beds and unconscious. They were being tended by people wearing orange hazmat suits. "The one on the left is the child," Elizabeth murmured. "Dr. Beckett has put IV lines into their arms to keep them comfortable and asleep. We're taking no chances."

"I understand," Radim said.

Carson arrived after a few moments. He was in scrubs, his hair was damp from being in a hazmat suit, and he looked exhausted. "Mr. Radim."

"Dr. Beckett, it's good to see you again." They shook hands. "Dahlia asked me to send her regards to you, and asked me to thank you again. She's pregnant. Her and her husband's first child."

"That's wonderful!" Carson replied, and once again Teyla saw how good news could help Carson, who felt the pain of everyone and everything near him. The word, she thought, was 'empathy,' and he had it perhaps in too great a measure. "You tell her if she has any complications, or even none and just wants a good checkup, she should come to me again. I'd love to see her."

"I hear you also have many babies needing homes," Radim said, looking from Carson to Elizabeth. "From some kind of Wraith encampment."

"Aye, we do, nearly fifty more," Carson replied. "Would the Genii be willing to take any of the bairns?"

Radim nodded. "We would. There are many of us who are incapable of having children, myself included." He turned to Elizabeth. "Thank you for this," he said, indicating the Wraith and Beckett. "The Genii are in your debt. Again."

"I assure you, it is our pleasure to help, Ladon. Our people should never have been enemies in the first place."

He gazed down at the Wraith for a long moment before answering. When he did, it was a murmur. "You've said that before, but it's only now that I realize how right you have been, all along."

Elizabeth glanced at Teyla, but Teyla just shook her head, slightly. She would tell Elizabeth about the conversation with Radim later, when she told her about what the Genii believed. If the virus could broker peace between the Genii and what was essentially everyone else in the galaxy, then it was one more good thing to lay at the feet of it. The Atlantians might never believe it, but it did not matter. Truth was truth, whether or not you believed.

* * *

"Okay, okay." Elizabeth swallowed heavily and looked at the table in front of her. "Fine. I authorize you to get in touch with the Asurans, the Replicators." Elizabeth sighed and closed her eyes. "For the record? I don't like this. I wish there was another way."

"Yes, I do too!" Rodney said, leaning forward. "And don't think I haven't been scouring the database, trying to find a convenient device which allows one person to go into the mind of another. But if there's one in there, I can't locate it. And we're running out of time... it's been over seven months with no substantial change in Jackson's condition." He didn't have to say what they were all thinking, which was how much damage had the Ori done in the time it was taking them to rebuild? How were the people on Earth doing? 

Carter's hands were shaking, just slightly. John took note of that almost dispassionately, not letting on that he saw it. He'd had a heart-to-heart with Teal'c about Carter just a few days before, and he'd told John what had happened, how the Replicators had captured Carter, how they'd tortured her. John knew all about that stuff, unfortunately. Actually, he was surprised that his own hands weren't shaking. He'd thought their defeat of the Replicators the year before was the last they'd see of them. Apparently not, dammit.

"From one of the beta sites, then," Rodney was saying. "The one that's farthest from their world, just in case. We'll give 'em a call, find out why they haven't been all over us like white on rice."

"And if they demand you come through the 'gate?" Caldwell said, his voice hard.

"We don't." Rodney shook his head sharply. "I trust those clowns as far as I can fling a piano. But it's the only chance we've got." He sighed. "And if it fails, then we're SOL."

There wasn't anything else to say, other than John would accompany Rodney and they'd take a jumper, on which they'd have one of the smaller plasma screens hooked up to the jumper's radio. Carter, John immediately noticed, took off from the meeting room like the Wraith were after her. Teal'c followed and John nodded, Teal'c was a good guy and he liked Carter. They'd be okay.

Elizabeth, though, he worried about her. She had told him what had happened when the Replicators took over her mind -- how real it felt, how seductive to just give in and accept a simpler life than what she had on Atlantis. John understood that, a little too well. Sometimes he wondered if he really did have a death wish, because what he remembered best from the little fantasy they'd given him was how peaceful he felt as Atlantis went up in a mushroom cloud with him at the heart of it.

He supposed he ought to talk to Kate Heightmeyer about it. One of these days, anyway. Maybe. Okay, never.

Rodney was nervous. John lowered the jumper to the 'gate room and went through the 'gate and Rodney, sitting next to him, just couldn't shut up. He was chattering, stuttering, veering from subject to subject like a toddler on speed. John landed on the rocky plain in front of the stargate. "Rodney."

"And... and..." Rodney blinked and finally focused on him. "What?"

"We're here. You ready to dial?"

"Oh God." Rodney closed his eyes and started rocking, breathing deeply. John let him be; he was just as nervous as Rodney was and could understand what Rodney was doing a little too well. After a few minutes of deep breathing, Rodney opened his eyes. "Okay. 

"You sure?"

"Yeah." Rodney looked at John. "You ready?"

John took his own deep breath and let it out slowly. "Yeah. As much as I'll ever be. Let's hit it."

Rodney dialed and the stargate belled out then settled into the familiar pool of blue. After a few moments while nothing happened, Rodney finally clicked on the jumper's radio. "This is, ah, Dr. McKay, calling the Asurans." He looked at John who shrugged. "Do you copy?"

The radio was silent and the screen was static. "Do you think they're not home?" John asked, trading looks with Rodney.

"The stargate has to be there," Rodney replied. "I mean, it went through, the wormhole is stable."

"Try it again."

"This is Dr. McKay calling the Asurans, do you read?"

John was about ready to pack it in when the radio pickup crackled to life. "Dr. McKay. We remember you."

Rodney and John exchanged nervous glances, and John mouthed, "Oberoth?" but Rodney just shook his head and shrugged. "Yeah, uh, good to hear your voice too. Is this, uh, Oberoth?"

"No." Behind them, the screen flared to life. "You knew me as Niam." Boggled, John exchanged frantic looks with Rodney. Niam was dead! Rodney had killed him! Hadn't he?

Rodney paled. "Niam? H-how?" He swallowed. "I thought... I mean, I thought we'd ki--"

"Why are you contacting us?"

Well, that was direct and to the point. "Uh, we... have a favor to ask?" Rodney was so nervous he was stuttering again.

"If this is in regards to the Wraith, then our answer--"

"No, no, we don't need help in that area, not like you ever helped before," Rodney muttered with a frown. "We've taken care of them."

Niam's face was completely unreadable, and had been since they met him. "Then why are you contacting us?"

"Look, we have a guy, an important man, he's been traumatized. We need some way to get into his brain, to heal him. It's very important--"

"No."

This was not going well. "But--"

"No. We have nothing further to say to you."

Struck by sudden inspiration, John leapt into the conversation. "We just thought you might like a way to really get back at the Ancients, you know, the ones who designed you and then tried to kill you."

Rodney looked at John, his eyes wide. "Yeah, those Ancients!"

Niam was silent so long John wondered if he'd died or something. "The Lanteans who took over Atlantis were--"

"Not them. The _real_ Ancients. The ones who built Atlantis and the 'gates." John was glad there was no video pickup on their end, because Rodney would have spoiled it, motioning frantically for John to continue.

"But they've all ascended." There, that was interest, John would bet his last dollar on that.

"Yeah, that's right. But that doesn't mean they're _dead_ , you know." John glared at Rodney and flapped his hands, mouthing 'talk! talk!'

"Okay, quick history lesson," Rodney finally said, as Niam remained silent. "The Ancients, the real Ancients, were the Alterrans. You knew that, right?"

"Yes. They were the ones who came to this galaxy, and it was they and their offspring who designed and built us."

"Right. Right. But you see, there's more to it than that. After the Alterrans ascended, there was a... a... "

"Schism." John supplied and Rodney nodded.

"Right. Schism. Some of them just ascended and cut all ties to the so-called 'material plane' and the others, well, they decided they wanted to be gods. And then they discovered that as long as they had worshippers, they had an unlimited source of energy. They call themselves the Ori." Rodney paused and looked uncertainly at John. "You getting all this? I'm not going too fast?"

"Continue, Dr. McKay."

Rodney gave John a look but John just shrugged. "Okay, then. Recently, the Ori discovered our galaxy and realized there were still ascended ancients hanging around. Since they had this schism, the Ancients were at war with each other, sort of, or something like that, but the upshot of all this is that the Ori _are_ the Ancients, the only actual Ancients presently in existence, ascended or not, since the others have faded away or something. And the person who needs help carries a weapon in his mind that can kill any -- I mean, the Ori. The only thing is, he's mad, catatonic, and he can't use the weapon without being sane."

"Why is he insane?"

"We're not sure, but we think it has to do with the torture the Ori put him through. They don't want him sane, you see, because they know he could kill them."

"He can also give you the lowdown on ascension," John added, remembering Niam's obsession. "He's ascended... what, twice?" 

Rodney nodded. "At least twice, and returned. He knows how it works, he's the resident expert. Seriously. If you're still interested in ascension, he's the one who can help you."

Niam didn't say a word. He sat still, his face devoid of emotion. Rodney looked at John and shrugged; John just returned it. The ball was in their court, now.

Finally, Niam spoke again. "You are asking for our help to delve into the mind of a man who may be insane but is catatonic, in order to help him return to sanity and wakefulness. This man is a weapon against those who are ascended, and will kill the Ancients known as the Ori as soon as he is restored to sanity." Niam still hadn't changed his no-expression. "Is this correct?"

"Ah... um... uh, yeah, that's... kinda the capsule description," Rodney said, once again giving John a weird look.

"And this man holds a key to ascension?"

"Yeah, he really is an expert on it," John said. He felt like holding his breath -- he both wanted and feared their answer.

Finally, after a long and nail-biting few minutes, Niam spoke again. "Contact us again in thirty-six hours," he said. "The council will discuss your request."

"That's good, thank you, ye--" Rodney stopped talking as soon as the screen went blank and the 'gate closed. "Yes. Okay, yeah." He looked over at John, wiping his hands on his BDUs. "That went well, I think," he said.

John nodded and dialed Atlantis. "Yeah. I guess." They were _so_ screwed.

* * *

"Thirty-six hours," Elizabeth repeated. She looked pretty much how Rodney felt, which is to say like shit. "They want you to call them in thirty-six hours."

"Yeah, that's what they said." Rodney said. "We're going to call them from a different beta site."

"Good idea," Caldwell said, nodding. "In the meantime, we'll know if they approach, correct?"

"Yes, the scanners picked up their ship as it approached Atlantis the last time," Rodney said. "It doesn't discriminate between 'good guys' and 'bad guys', just ships and other matter." He turned to Sheppard. "By the way, that was the most fantastic bit of extemporaneous talking I've _ever_ witnessed, and I include myself in that statement."

Sheppard gave him a look that Rodney didn't think he'd ever seen before. It was all slow smile, shining eyes and sweet pride. "Thank you, Rodney," he replied, and if his voice was a bit on the sarcastic side, it didn't matter; Rodney knew what was behind it.

"Yes, it was, but I'm worried now that they might want to keep Jackson for themselves," Caldwell said. "If they come back with a yes, how are we going to handle it?"

"Well, not here, not on Atlantis," Sheppard said quickly. Elizabeth was looking a bit pale again, Rodney noted, which was probably behind Sheppard's words. But then again, Rodney didn't want to be around the damn Replicators either, so Atlantis was right out.

"Neutral territory," Teal'c said. "And perhaps the Daedalus should be standing by, cloaked, ready to interfere if necessary."

"We've got the ARG as part of the standard armament," Caldwell said. "And it should work against any Replicator we encounter. It's a power drain, but..."

"We've got the power, now," Rodney said, becoming happier by the moment. "We take Jackson with us in a jumper. We gate to a neutral world--"

"One that has the Daedalus already in orbit, cloaked and shielded," Sheppard broke in, and as usual, was keeping right up with and almost anticipating Rodney's words.

"Right, right! The Replicators come through the 'gate, help Jackson, then if it's all good, 'gate back."

"And if not, we use the ARG on the Daedalus, smack them down," Sheppard finished. "That's as good a foolproof plan as we can get."

"They know we have a weapon that works against them," Carter said. She looked a bit better, though she was still quieter than usual. "That's how you defeated them last time."

"Yes, and that might be what's keeping them from attacking us at all," Rodney said. "They know we can seriously burn their asses. Even if they can eventually counter it, why would they take the chance?"

Elizabeth nodded. "You could be right, Rodney. And since it's not so much giving up a weapon as helping a person who _is_ the weapon, I doubt there's anything they could actually 'take,' as it were."

"Exactly!" Yes, this was coming together. McKay and Sheppard -- an unstoppable force. They were really good together, in more ways than one.

"I want to go with you on the jumper, with Daniel," Carter said. Her face was still pale but determined.

"Are you certain, Colonel Carter?" Teal'c asked gravely. 

"Yes. You're going to need someone there who knows Daniel, someone he trusts." She looked between Rodney and Sheppard. "In case this works. And I know the Replicators, probably better than anyone here."

Sheppard nodded, looked sympathetic. "I'm not going to say no, Colonel. We could use your expertise, if it becomes necessary."

"And this is all hypothetical," Rodney added. "We don't know if they'll say yes."

"My gut says they will," Sheppard said slowly. "I think they want this pretty badly."

The meeting broke up, waiting for thirty-six -- now thirty-four -- hours, until the next contact. Tomorrow late afternoon, Rodney thought to himself. That's plenty time to get some real work in. And maybe it would take his mind off the mission altogether.

Twenty hours later, he was kicking himself and couldn't get his brain out of the time he'd been tortured by the Replicators. He'd tried working but was distracted. He'd tried sleeping but every time he closed his eyes, he saw them and their hands. He'd even tried fucking, but that's difficult to do when neither you nor the love of your life could get it up, even with a crane.

Maybe he could try some of Sheppard's SuDoKu puzzles, or they could play cards or backgammon, or maybe he could take Sheppard's second-best skateboard out to the east pier and see if he could ride it without getting killed or maybe he'd just take a hammer to his head. Their heads, because Sheppard was just as antsy as Rodney.

"I bang my head against the wall because it feels so good when I stop," Rodney muttered. 

They were slouched on their sofa, nursing a beer apiece. "If I thought it would work, I'd give it a try," Sheppard said.

"We need to sleep. You have any Ambien left?"

"Nope. We could go hit up Carson for it..."

"Nah. He's got three of 'em due today, I heard him talking earlier with Elizabeth."

"Well, crap."

Sudden inspiration hit. "What's the most boring movie you've ever seen?" 

Sheppard frowned at him. "Boring?"

"Yes, boring. We can put it on the laptop and go to bed and pass out in the middle of it. _Dr. Zhivago_?"

"Hm." Sheppard nodded. "That was pretty boring."

"We can get it off the server. C'mon."

It sounded like a good idea, and sure enough, by a half hour into the movie, Sheppard was snoring away, out for the count. Rodney, however, for some damn reason or other found himself interested in the movie. He never had been in the past, so he didn't know why it intrigued him now. He let John lean on him while he watched the stupid movie with bleary eyes, feeling like he had been hit by a truck. Who knew there was that much nudity in the movie, all naked, glowing people, yelling at each other soundlessly and... wait. Was that a flying saucer? Maybe he should wake John up to see it.

"Rodney?"

"Not fair," he mumbled.

"Rodney. We need to get up and get a shower before we leave." That was John, but what was he doing, talking in his sleep?

"C'mon, sleeping beauty. I'll put coffee on." 

Rodney suddenly realized his eyes were closed. He opened them to see warm sunlight slanting into the bedroom and Sheppard walking out of it. He'd slept and not known it? Oh, how very unfair!

He did feel a bit better, though. And after coffee, even more so. It was well past lunch time so they ate in their kitchen and then took off, heading for the jumper bay. Before too long, they were on a different world, dialing the Asurans again. You'd think they'd get a break from the universe sometimes, that there would be a last minute reprieve and they wouldn't have to contact the damn Replicators again.

There was the same setup in the jumper -- no video pickup from their end, but a screen for anything they might broadcast. Rodney only had to hail them once before they responded.

"We have decided to help you in this matter," Niam said.

Rodney looked at Sheppard, elated and cautious, all at once. It was too easy, there had to be a catch.

There was. "In return, we want Dr. McKay to come to our world and re-write our base code to our specifications."

"Out of the question." Sheppard spoke before Rodney could even take a breath to object. 

"Then we will not help you."

"Wait, wait!" Rodney said, frantically looking from Niam to Sheppard. 

"No, Rodney," Sheppard said, frowning at him. "It's not that we don't trust you, it's just that, you know, we don't trust you. Dr. McKay will not go to Asura and that's the end of the discussion." He looked directly at Rodney as he spoke the last words, and Rodney could almost see his panic.

"No, I won't, but I don't have to!" Rodney was talking as fast as he could. "Your communication, your merging, it's all done via subspace, what's done to one of you can be done to all of you. I have all my notes, I know all the code I changed last time, all I need is one of you. Don't you remember?" 

"Of course I remember, Dr. McKay," Niam said. "And I also remember how you tried to upload a virus to our base code to destroy us."

"Look, last time it was war between us! The others, they re-set you, fed you more energy to wake you up. If you _all_ want this, then all I have to do is fix one of you and you can just accept the programming change that way. I'll even give you the goddamned code before-hand, so you can look it over." He was beginning to get frustrated; both Sheppard and Niam were acting like testosterone-laden Neanderthals. "You can quarantine whoever it is that I change, check the source code and if it's not what you want, I can change it. Just don't... don't dismiss this out of hand. We need you to fix Jackson." His last words were directed more at Sheppard than at Niam.

Sheppard glowered at him, mouthed, "I don't like this, dammit," but Rodney made a slashing motion with his hands. They needed the damn Replicators, and if this was the price, then so be it.

"We'll supply everything, the consoles, the access, the wiring, everything. All you have to do is send someone to meet us, someone who can be altered and who can help Dr. Jackson."

Niam was still for quite a long time, but at least he didn't cut the connection. Rodney felt like chewing on his nails, something he hadn't done for a long time.

Finally, Niam spoke. "Very well, we accept the terms. But we will not help this person until Dr. McKay has altered our code to our specifications."

Rodney blew out a big breath, feeling almost dizzy with relief. He checked with Sheppard and he looked about the same. The rest of it was merely mop-up -- time and place, which planet, how many people on both sides, whatever. The big thing was done, and now all Rodney had to do was to call up all his notes from the last time they met the Asurans and re-align the code. Again. Piece of cake.

Assuming, of course, the cake was fifty stories tall with flying buttresses made of jam and baked by several hundred people in pans that had to match exactly. Yeah, like that.

* * *

Kate Heightmeyer was exhausted and had been for months. She knew she was spread too thin but there wasn't anything else for it, she was the only psychiatrist in Atlantis. No one could have anticipated rescuing more than two hundred little girls, all pregnant and extremely traumatized. She was looking forward to the last of the girls giving birth so they could go to good homes, find their places in the universe at last. But aside from them, there were those who found the children, and the doctors, nurses and midwives helping the children, and it was all just far too much. 

So why was she sitting in the briefing room, ready to go face down Replicators? It certainly wasn't bravado on her part -- she had been glad to miss them the first and the second time around. But when Elizabeth had walked into one of Kate's group sessions and told her the plan to get the Asurans to help Daniel Jackson, she knew she had to go.

She'd seen the strange recording device that Carson actually had to surgically remove from Jackson's left hand, and she'd seen the horrible footage it carried, to which he was a live witness. General O'Neill, Vala Mal Doran -- two of his dear friends, killed in front of him in what appeared to be multiple times. Kate wasn't big on 'hate,' she felt it was a useless, draining emotion, but she'd make an exception for the Ori. 

Thing was, bringing the Replicators in was probably more right than wrong. Kate had no idea how long Dr. Jackson would remain in his atypical catatonia, and all the drug therapies she and Carson had tried had no real success. Carson was quite certain Dr. Jackson was still in there, somewhere, and Kate believed it as well.

She'd had to convince Sheppard as well as Elizabeth, that she should go on the mission. It was a little difficult, given that she really didn't want to go. "I need to be there." Kate had sighed. "You don't want Carson there, he's too vulnerable. Sam is a good idea, someone Dr. Jackson knows, a familiar face. But I need to be there as well, as his consulting physician." 

Kate and Carson had been... she hated to use the word 'experimenting' but that best described it. They had been trying different drugs and groups of drugs, antipsychotics, antidepressants, a whole host of SSRIs. Dr. Jackson seemed to be responding better to one set, and with Kate along for the ride, she'd be able to monitor his mindset and boost the drug intake as needed.

It had worked, in fact she'd convinced them more than she'd convinced herself. 

Carson rushed into the briefing, out of breath. "Sorry, sorry," he said, taking a chair. "Lise went into labor, finally. If she hadn't today, I was prepped to do a c-section."

"We have plenty of time, Carson," Elizabeth said with a smile. "Is she one of the last ones?"

"Aye," Carson replied, catching his breath and opening his laptop on the table. "Only nine left." He sighed. "It would have been fifteen if I hadn't had to abort so many." Carson felt every hurt, experienced life a little too much at times. It was both his greatest weakness and his greatest strength.

Kate patted his hand. "You've done well by them, Carson," she said, and everyone in the room nodded. "They trust you, and considering their trauma levels, that's astounding."

"I'm just glad we rescued them at all," Rodney muttered. John nonchalantly draped his arm around the back of Rodney's chair and Kate smiled. Those two finally finding each other was the best thing to happen on Atlantis.

"Let's get on with this, shall we?" Elizabeth asked, and everyone sat up straight. "The equipment you need is already set up on the planet -- P7Y-748 -- yes?" 

She directed the question to both John and Rodney, though it was Rodney who replied. "Yes. I've included everything up to and including the kitchen sink, most of which we probably won't even need."

"Better to be safe than sorry," Elizabeth said. "The Daedalus reports being in stationary orbit already, so that's good. Carson, you've stocked the jumper with everything Kate might need?"

"Aye. And like Rodney, things that'll probably not be needed." He turned to Kate. "Should we keep an IV in him? I think it would be handy for administering meds."

"It would, but I'm concerned that he might rip it out, damage himself with it." She studied Carson for a moment, not seeing him, really, but thinking about him. "Let's go without."

The rest of the meeting passed in a blur. Before she was quite ready for it, she was helping two orderlies get Dr. Jackson in the jumper. He was on a rolling stretcher, strapped in so he wouldn't fall off. He was still unconscious, just as he had been all along. She'd seen his scans, though; there was a lot of brainwave activity going on in that silent head. 

The shelter on P7Y-748 -- not much more than a glorified tent -- was indeed stocked with everything, it was crowded, in fact. Sam, John and Rodney helped get Dr. Jackson situated inside then all four of them stopped, straightened and looked out the tent flap to the 'gate, which was quiescent. "When...?" Sam asked.

"We've got half an hour," John replied with a glance at his watch.

"Time enough to back out," Rodney muttered.

To Kate's satisfaction (and Sam's apparent confusion), John wrapped his arms around Rodney, squeezing. Rodney clung for an instant before they separated. John tapped his earpiece and checked in with the Daedalus, Sam and Rodney went through an equipment check and Kate checked Dr. Jackson's vitals. It probably wasn't a good thing for a psychiatrist to pray to an unseen deity, but she was. This had to work.

Precisely on time, the 'gate whooshed open. The four of them were standing by the shelter and Kate knew that the radio link was open, just in case. The five of them could be beamed to an isolation chamber onboard the Daedalus instantaneously, if necessary. 

It didn't quite reassure Kate, though.

One person, a female, stepped through the 'gate and it closed behind her. "I remember you," Rodney said, frowning. "You were one of the two women with Niam."

"And where is Niam?" John asked. "I thought he--"

"You may call me Ula," the woman said. "Niam is head of the Asuran Council and as such, could not be here."

"He is?" Rodney asked. "What about Oberon?"

"He is no longer in favor." The woman looked directly at Rodney. "We should begin."

"Yes, yes, of course," Rodney muttered, with a long look at John.

There wasn't much for John and Kate to do as Sam and Rodney bent to their task. Sam was being very careful to stay as far away as possible from Ula and John made sure to stand in the one place where he could see both the 'gate and the inside of the tent. He was armed and looked more like a soldier than she had ever seen him. Kate, though she knew next to nothing about programming in general or the Replicators in specific, was still fascinated by what Rodney and Sam were trying to do so she shamelessly eavesdropped on the conversation.

They were editing the 'source code' or something like that, and Kate had a marginal understanding that this code outlined the basic behavior for the Replicators. If only humans were that simple, she thought with a sigh. Rodney began arguing with Ula about aggression and Kate frowned. "If I delete _all_ violent tendencies, you'll just sit still until you fall apart!" he was saying. 

Time, maybe, to break in. "I'm not an expert on coding, but I am an expert in human thought and behavior. Can I be of help in any way?"

Ula turned toward Kate as she spoke. "What is your designation?"

"I'm Dr. Heightmeyer, a psychiatrist -- someone who treats human minds."

"We are not human," Ula said flatly. "Those who created us imbued us with a violent and aggressive nature which is even worse than that of the Wraith." Ula's face never changed as she spoke, and Kate realized how difficult it would be to help her. Kate was used to reading body language and in that area, the Replicators were apparently mute. "We begged them to remove this violent nature from our programming, but they would not. It is what made us hate them, turn that aggression against them. We are more than just the weapon the Ancients created."

"I agree." Kate studied Ula's blank face. "You are far more than a weapon and the Ancients should have seen that. I can't see any difference between you and a human, myself."

"Humans have DNA, Replicators have base code," Sam said, though she didn't move any closer. "It's pretty much the same thing, at least in complexity."

Kate nodded. "But isn't the purpose of this meeting to make you _more_ human, not less?"

"Many of us desire ascension," Ula said. "It is the pinnacle of evolution, the next step beyond our human bodies. The Lanteans made us to kill Wraith. That is our primary function to this day. However, over time we discerned other possible functions. Many of us wish to ascend, to become more than what we are now, to follow another function."

"I understand that," Kate said. "But conflict is essential to a 'true' human's existence. We've always fought, for everything, from food to sex to achievement. Removing that urge would be contrary to what makes us humans."

"But ascension is not possible without removal of the violent tendencies from our source code."

"How do you know that?" Kate asked, and she heard and felt both Rodney and Sam start with surprise behind her. "Have you spoken with an ascended Ancient?"

It looked as if the question surprised Ula too. "No." She frowned and Kate realized there was some body language to be read, though it appeared to be only significant emotions would trigger it. "Over time, many of us have tried to ascend, following precepts put in place by our creators, those who came before us. We know that a violent nature is not the path to ascension, and as such, wish to have our base code rewritten to remove that nature."

"I believe you may be harboring a misconception there. Rodney is quite correct -- removing all aggression from your... base code?" She glanced at Rodney who nodded and who was frowning in concentration, "Removing that wouldn't make you _more_ human, it would make you _less_ human. Humans have aggressive tendencies their whole lives, it's part of what makes us who we are."

"But humans are able to ascend," Ula said. "How is that possible if humans have the same violent natures as we do?"

"We repress it." Kate smiled at Ula. "There are humans -- called sociopaths -- who follow their violent tendencies with no self-censor, with no conscience. These humans are able to kill, to ravage, and they generally end up dead or in prison."

"Or in elected office," Rodney muttered and Sam elbowed him in the ribs.

Ula cocked her head to one side. "This word, conscience, we have heard it before. You claim it is a self-censor?"

"Yes, it is a combination of nature and nurture. Children are taught from birth what is acceptable behavior and what is not."

"We do not have children." Kate was absolutely positive Ula's tone carried regret. "We do not procreate as you do."

"Neither do the Asgard," Kate said. "And they keep themselves from sociopathic tendencies." Ula stared at Kate. Her face was expressionless, a blank slate. "Ula?"

"I think she's communicating with the others via the subspace link," Rodney said, carefully maintaining his distance. "Stand back, just in case." All of them took a cautious step backwards, keeping their eyes on Ula.

Suddenly, as if she hadn't spaced out, Ula began talking. "You must edit the base code so that we may have a conscience," she said. 

Rodney tossed up his hands and Sam looked like she wanted to hit something. "I don't think that's actually possible," Kate said gently. "It's something that develops over time, perhaps as a race." She turned to look at Rodney. "I don't think it's possible, anyway?"

"You just want me to program a soul?" Rodney said, at his most acerbic. "I mean, as long as I'm doing the impossible, maybe I could get a pony, too?"

"A soul..." Kate frowned as the word sank in. "Would you say that's the part of humanity that ascends?" she asked, looking at Sam. "How did Dr. Jackson describe it?"

Sam's face cleared as if the idea were sinking in. "That might be..." She turned to Rodney, who began nodding, rapidly. "That's why?" They looked like they were speaking telepathically, finishing each other's sentences, supplying words. "There's only one person who would know," Sam finally said, turning to look at the stretcher. "Daniel."

"This is the person who is insane, who is catatonic?" Ula cocked her head again, this time to the other side. "He has ascended."

"Yes." Sam's hands were twisted into fists. "Twice. Well, one and a half times."

"And yet he is solid, not ascended currently."

"That's right. He chose to re-take his human form."

"Why?"

Sam sighed heavily and her shoulders slumped. "I can only tell you what he told me. There was a creature known as Anubis, who was partially ascended. He had discovered a way to end all life in the Mi-- our galaxy, how to destroy everything and everybody. The ascended Ancients would do nothing   to stop him and that's something that Daniel wouldn't -- couldn't live with. They gave him another chance to become ascended after he had been killed by--" Sam cut herself off, swallowed hard and turned. She walked to the door of the tent and stood there, her head hanging low. Her hands were still fists.

Rodney gave Sam a look that was all sympathy before turning back to Ula, speaking calmly with what looked like effort. "Others, like you, Replicators, invaded our galaxy and tried to kill us. Jackson was able to stop them, somehow, and gave us enough time to use a specific weapon against them, which destroyed them."

Ula turned to him. "This weapon is what you used against us to take back Atlantis."

"Yes, that's true."

"And we'll use it again, if we have to," John said, from his post at the door to the tent. His voice was flat and hard and he wasn't even watching Ula.

"You understand self-preservation," Kate said, trying to defuse the situation. 

"Yes." Ula studied Kate for a moment, then turned to Rodney and from Rodney to the rolling bed that carried Dr. Jackson. "What you have implied here is that ascension is only possible for the truly human."

"Perhaps," Kate said, wishing she'd read the mission reports on ascension more carefully. "We don't know for certain. Anubis was a goa'uld, and yet he was able to partially ascend. There may be some other stricture for those who are not human."

"And you cannot tell us this information because you do not know." Ula was still studying Dr. Jackson's supine form. "But Daniel Jackson may know."

"Yes, I would say there's a very good chance of that," Sam said, returning to the conversation. "Daniel... If there's anyone who would know, it would be him."

Ula said, "We must discuss," then her face shut down again.

"Conferring?" Kate asked and Rodney nodded. 

"They are able to merge through subspace communication." Rodney pulled on Kate's arm. "Stay back. Remember when I said I didn't trust them? I don't." 

Ula was silent for a long time. John kept sentry and Kate checked Dr. Jackson's vitals again, quickly. The monitor equipment they had him connected to was showing no change. The tension was thick and Kate had to physically stop herself from fidgeting. Finally, Ula spoke again.

"We wish to speak with Daniel Jackson." She turned towards his bed. "It has been observed that, among humans, repudiating an oath is wrong and counterproductive. We will repair Daniel Jackson so that we may ask him and learn from him, but you must swear you will alter our base code after, if we wish it."

Sam looked at Rodney, who nodded. "As long it doesn't require us to go to your world, yes. You might have a better idea of what you need once you talk to Jackson."

Ula nodded. "That is the consensus among us. I will attempt to help Daniel Jackson now."

She walked to the stretcher, standing at Dr. Jackson's head, and extended one arm. Sam put her hand over her mouth and muttered, "I can't watch this." 

John waved her over to him. "You're on sentry." He gave her a P90 and almost pushed her clear of the tent. Kate wasn't sure whether he saw the grateful look on her face.

It was one thing to read about the Replicators ability to sink into human flesh, it was quite another to actually see it. Kate couldn't blame Sam, she wished she could avoid it. Ula's hand sank directly into Dr. Jackson's head through his forehead. The monitoring equipment went nuts -- heart rate, blood pressure, brain activity all jumped, though not to dangerous levels.

Ula was motionless for a long time, far longer than Kate would have thought necessary. But none of the monitors were showing any problems, so she remained a silent witness. Rodney paced -- just out of Ula's reach -- and John appeared to be keeping one eye more inside than out. She saw him grimace when Ula put her hand into Dr. Jackson's head, but he made no move to look away.

After what felt like ten minutes, Dr. Jackson began to thrash, weakly. "Jack..." he moaned, then shouted, "Jack! _Jack_! Vala, no not Vala! Jack!"

Sam came running back in but John halted her with his hand. "Wait."

"But--"

"I'm monitoring him closely," Kate said, without looking away from the monitors. "We need to wait."

The thrashing slowly subsided until he was once again still and limp. Kate heard Ula make a soft noise so she looked up and blinked in absolute astonishment.

Ula was crying. Her face was screwed up and her eyes were closed as they had been since she started working on Dr. Jackson, and big, fat tears were running down her cheeks.

Sam gasped and covered her mouth with one hand. "My God," Rodney whispered. John was riveted to what was happening so when Rodney pushed himself back against John, into a tight embrace, John seemed to barely notice but wrapped Rodney in his arms.

The monitors began to calm down, slowing to more normal levels. Dr. Jackson's eyelids began to flutter open and Kate could see eye movement beneath them. Ula continued to cry but slowly pulled her hand out of Dr. Jackson's head. By the time she was clear, his eyes were open, barely. "I'm sorry," he whispered to Ula. "I know how it feels."

"Is there no other way?" Ula asked him, her voice soft and thick. 

"No. But I have faith you can do it. When I'm done, I'll come back, help you." Dr. Jackson's eyes drifted closed for a moment before he opened them again. "Sam?"

Sam's expression was one born out of a desperate hope. "Daniel?" She walked to his side, ignoring Ula, who was still crying. "Daniel?" she repeated, in a small, almost childish voice.

"'M here," he whispered. "I'm here." Sam took his hand and brought it to her cheek, her tears flowing as freely as Ula's. "It's going to be okay."

* * *

John Sheppard was completely and utterly freaked out and didn't care who knew it.

It was bad enough to have to deal with the Replicators again, but being forced to watch one of them do that horrible thing with the hand made him want to hurl. And then the damn thing started _crying_ , and Jackson woke up saying the strangest things, and now Carter was all but melting into a puddle of tears. This was just one weird day.

"Daedalus to Sheppard," Caldwell said in the radio. He'd forgotten about the link being open.

He tapped his earpiece. "This is Sheppard, go ahead."

"What's your status? Did we hear Jackson's voice?"

"Affirmative. It looks like Dr. Jackson has woken up."

"Teal'c is here, looking for permission to beam down. Is your situation stable enough?"

John tried to assess everything, looked from person to person, then shrugged. They all looked pretty much as freaked out as he felt. "Sure, fine. The more the merrier."

Caldwell snorted. "One of those?"

"You have no idea," John replied with a sigh. 

A few seconds later, Teal'c appeared with a bright white light. He turned and saw Carter bent over Jackson's bed, his hand still in hers. "Daniel Jackson," he said, his voice soft and filled with emotion.

"Hey, Teal'c, hi, buddy," Jackson rasped. "Can I get a sip of water? Doc?"

Kate, who had been checking monitors and taking Jackson's vitals, nodded. "Dr. Jackson, we need to get you back to Atlantis." She held out a cup with a straw. "This will help. I'm Kate Heightmeyer, one of your physicians. How do you feel?"

Jackson sipped the water and coughed lightly. "Weak as a kitten." He smiled. "It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Sam managed to wipe her face on the back of her sleeve. "Too long."

"I'm sorry, Sam," he murmured. He looked past Teal'c to where the Replicator woman was standing. "We've got one piece of unfinished business. Teal'c, that's Ula, from Asura. She's going to go back to her world now, so make sure she's got access." 

Ula stepped forward and John found himself tensing. "You swear you will return, Daniel Jackson?"

"I will," Jackson said. "I need to finish the Ori first."

She nodded, then smiled. It was kind of creepy, like she had never smiled before and was still learning how to do it. John glanced at Rodney who had the same grimace on his face that John felt. "We will be waiting," she said, then turned to leave.

John stayed with her, watched as she dialed Asura and stepped through the 'gate. When he returned to the tent, he heard Carter being ridiculously shrill. "Why do you have to? There's no law--"

"Sam." Jackson's voice sounded exhausted and worn out, which was weird considering he'd been asleep (well, okay, unconscious) for months. "I have to go back, I gave my word, but not until I've -- we've -- dealt with the Ori, which will be _yesterday_ if not sooner, but yes. I'm going back."

"Why?"

"The modifications I helped them make to their source code won't be enough..." He sighed. "I have to teach them how to die, Sam." Jackson's face was lined with care or pain or maybe both. He saw John standing at the door to the tent and said, "Colonel Sheppard. Could you dial Atlantis? We've got to get back there."

John blinked. "Yes, of course. I'll radio the Daedalus--"

"No, don't." Yep, that was exhaustion if John had ever heard it. "We'll be 'gating back here to leave on the Daedalus, we can't afford the extra time for her to go back to Atlantis first." He dropped his head on the pillow and closed his eyes. "There's no time left. They know I'm awake, we've got to get back to Earth now."

John and Rodney looked at each other in alarm. Rodney said, "I'll go dial," as both Teal'c and Carter began to ask questions.

"Please." It was worsening -- Jackson sounded half-dead. "We need to get back. I'll explain everything there."

They left all the equipment behind, sending some technicians to pick it up later. Carson fussed over Jackson, putting him on oxygen, taking blood and doing scans. Jackson could move, but it was leaden, he said it was like wading through a swamp of cold molasses. And he didn't want to try standing at all. 

Carson finally released him. Jackson immediately called a meeting of all section heads, including Caldwell, who 'gated through, leaving the Daedalus in orbit around P7Y-748. Jackson made his appearance in a wheelchair, and though he still looked terrible, he was definitely better than he had been.

"Thank you, all of you," he began with a sigh. "I..." It looked to John like he wanted to say something but couldn't find the right words to do it. Carter, who was sitting next to him, put her hand over his and he smiled at her. "I'm sorry," he finally began. "A lot of what's happened has been my fault, indirectly. The Ori thought they could control me, control my mind, if they broke me. They thought breaking me would keep me from hurting them. I knew that, on some level, but I refused to believe it." He closed his eyes. "It cost me Jack and Vala. But I won't let it cost me anyone else."

"Daniel," Carter began.

He opened his eyes and smiled grimly at her. "It's okay, Sam." He turned to the rest of the room. "There are a few of us who must leave for Earth immediately, as in yesterday. The Ori know I'm awake, and they will be coming, they're already on the way. I intend to meet them halfway, out of range of either here or Earth, but I don't think we can take any chances. To that end, you need to cloak and shield the city."

"We can't hope to match--" Caldwell began, but Jackson held up his hand.

"No, one ship can't hope to match all the Ori motherships in the Milky Way," he said. "You did a hell of a job after catching me. But that's immaterial. The Daedalus is only to ensure they're all present and accounted for in a place where they can't cause any more trouble. The actual battle won't even be on this plane of existence, Colonel."

Well. That definitely got everyone's attention.

Elizabeth finally leaned forward. "Daniel, if you can't--"

Jackson interrupted her, too. "Elizabeth, it's not a question of if. It's a question of when." He looked around the room. "Those of us who need to be there... we need to leave. Now."

* * *

Somehow, McKay and Sheppard ended up on the list of people who 'needed to be there'... wherever _there_ was, anyway. Novak was left behind while Caldwell was included, though Rodney wasn't sure that wasn't because the Daedalus was his ship. Sam and Teal'c, too. One or two others from Atlantis, replacing personnel wounded or dead from the battle but no marines, not even those who wanted to go back to Earth.

There was something weird going on and Rodney wished like hell he were on the mainland, on the beach with a frou-frou drink with a little umbrella in it, watching Sheppard surf.

Rodney stood at the viewport in the mess and watched the blue of hyperspace flash by. Behind him, he heard John walk in and approach him. It was the middle of the ship's 'night' and Rodney hadn't been able to sleep, but he thought Sheppard had been. "Did I wake you?" he asked, sighing.

"No. Not you." 

They stood in silence for a while, then Sheppard bumped Rodney's shoulder. "I think I can get coffee, if you want."

"Sure. I'm obviously not going to be able to sleep."

 "Yeah. Me neither." 

Rodney stayed where he was until the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled his nose. "Hey, is that...?"

Sheppard grinned as he pulled the filled pot off the burner. "Yep. Kona hazelnut. I swiped it from ship's stores. I've got all these access codes, you know."

"I'm glad to know my boyfriend knows what to do with his rank." Rodney sat down across from Sheppard and breathed the steam from his cup deeply. "I could almost eat the aroma."

They fixed their coffee and sat at a table, across from each other. Rodney took an appreciative sip of his coffee and closed his eyes. "I really need to sleep," he muttered.

"Yeah, me too." John looked terrible; dark circles ringed his eyes and his skin was pale. 

Rodney frowned. "I'm not keeping you up?"

"Nah." John sighed. "Dreams. Really annoying and stupid dreams. You think Ambien--"

"Wait," Rodney interrupted him. "What are you dreaming about?"

John frowned at him. "Why? It's just... glowing hordes of people. All over the place. All trying to..."

"Trying to talk to you. They're yelling but I can't hear what."

"Wait a minute." John's eyes grew big. "You're dreaming it too?"

"Yeah. For weeks now, off and on." Rodney took a big, calming gulp of his coffee. "I didn't know you..."

"I wonder if anyone--"

"Me too." They both turned to see Carter leaning against the door of the mess. "I've been dreaming that too." She limped in, taking a seat next to Rodney.

"You heard...?"

"Yeah." John pushed the coffee pot over to her, then stood and got her a mug. "Thanks, John." she fixed her coffee, carefully not looking at either of them.

"How long?" John asked.

She shook her head. "Weeks. I don't know. At least as long as I've been on Atlantis."

Rodney blinked and stared across the table at John. "Could that be why we were selected to come? The dreams?"

"Well, does Teal'c--"

"He's not good at sleeping, not the way we do," Sam said. "A side effect of the tretonin. He meditates."

"That is correct, though I do sleep." Rodney sighed at Teal'c's voice, it was getting crowded in the mess. Teal'c made his way to their table and sat next to John. "But I have been experiencing vague, troublesome visions, off and on, for some time."

"Let me guess," Rodney said. "Glowing people yelling soundlessly at you," 

"Indeed."

"I think they're ascended," Sam said, suddenly. "They look like they're ascended. I've seen a lot of them and they all... glow. Golden or white."

"Yeah." John pursed his lips together and studied the table in front of him. "I thought they looked ascended too."

"So why us? Why are we dreaming this stuff?" Carter asked.

"If I said it's because you're to bear witness to what's about to happen, would you lock me back up in the looney bin?" The four of them turned as the voice began and saw Jackson, leaning against the door to the mess.

"Daniel, I don't think you're supposed to be up," Sam said, pushing out of her seat. 

Teal'c stood before Sam and helped Jackson come over to their table. "Thanks, Teal'c," he said. "Can I have some of that coffee?"

"Whole pot here," Rodney said. John got up and fetched two more cups, then passed the coffee, sugar and creamer down. "But there's a price. You've got to tell us what's going on."

Jackson chuckled. "How about truth with a side order of clarity?" He poured himself a cup and began doctoring it. "Okay, let's start with this. Has anyone -- other than Sam -- read stories by Ursula K. LeGuin?"

"I have," John said and Rodney blinked at him, incredulous. "Well, I did! I read _The Left Hand of  Darkness_ in high school." 

Sheppard had the weirdest things hiding in his head. "Oh, let me guess, you'd heard there were dirty bits in it, didn't you?" Rodney asked, only barely managing to hold his grin in.

John looked like he was trying to hide his embarrassment. "I did not."

"That's not the book I was thinking about," Jackson said. He was clearly laughing at them but not so much that Rodney would care. "I meant the _Earthsea_ books."

"I've heard of them," Rodney said, and Sam nodded.

"There's a short story that she wrote outside the actual trilogy. It tells the story of a young mage who was fighting a powerful, older, evil mage. The young mage was captured by his enemy and tossed into prison. He tried every way he could think of to get out, did a host of spells and whatnot, but he couldn't get out."

Jackson took a sip of his coffee. He was really a pretty good storyteller, Rodney thought. Made sense, he had been a teacher at one point. At least, Rodney thought he had been.

"Finally, he knew what he had to do. The enemy he fought wasn't really alive -- think ascended, which is why I'm making the analogy. The bad guy's 'real' body was on a different plane of existence altogether, which was what made him so powerful in the 'normal' plane. The young mage knew what he had to do to save his people, his world, from this enemy. He closed his eyes and--"

"The word of unbinding," Sam whispered. Her face was white as a sheet.

"Yeah. I thought you might recognize it." Jackson put his hand over one of Sam's. "He spoke the word of unbinding and left the 'real' world for the shadows. He found his enemy's abandoned body pretty easily. He tracked his enemy's... well, soul is a good way of putting it, tracked the man's soul down, then forced it back into the abandoned body. Then he got himself comfortable under a never-changing sky because he knew he was going to have to sit there forever, to guard against that enemy ever returning to the 'real' word."

Rodney's throat was dry and he was afraid it would be dry forever. He wasn't exactly sure why Jackson's words filled him with dread, but they did. 

John looked much as Rodney was feeling. Sam was wound tight as a spring. Teal'c wasn't moving, was perfectly still --  he looked like a statue. But it turned out he was the only one who could speak. "Daniel Jackson, you are speaking of a guardianship position, outside the real universe." He turned his head slowly to face Jackson. "Is this what you intend?"

Jackson's face grew a crooked smile. "Yeah, I guess. But you have to remember, we're going to take care of the Ori and the Ancients, very soon. And the SGC will still be there, and all our friends." He looked around the table and his grin grew wider. "Uh, did I forget to mention that Cam and Landry are okay and living with the Asgard?" He stood as that thought went around the room. "Now, if you'll excuse me, there's something I have to do--"

Before he could say more, the alarm klaxon went off. "Proximity alert! Colonel Caldwell to the bridge! Battle stations!"

"...Right now." He left the rest of them in the mess sitting, almost frozen in place as alarms went off. 

"We need to get to the bridge," Sam finally said, breaking their paralysis. All four of them leapt from their seats and ran into the corridor, heading for the bridge. 

The ship rocked with blasts before they were halfway there. The companionway was filled with smoke and people rushing everywhere. It was a long few moments before they managed to stumble onto the bridge. "McKay! Get weapons!" Carter yelled and Rodney just nodded, checking over the weapons console. 

Sheppard was suddenly behind him. "We've got no 302s!" he yelled over the increasing din of battle. "But there're two jumpers in the bay! Should I take them out?"

"Negative!" Caldwell yelled, as another station went up in a shower of sparks. "There're at least five Ori motherships out there! Where's Jackson? We need that weapon five minutes ago!"

"I don't know!" Sam looked over at Rodney and Sheppard. "He said he had to... Should I go to his quarters?"

"Shields at fifteen percent!" one of the techs said as the Daedalus took more hits, as more consoles went up. "The ZPMs can't keep up!"

"That's impossible!" Rodney yelled, heading for the power console and leaving weapons to Sheppard. "There are two nearly full ZedPMs back there!" But the technician was right, power was draining fast. "I'm going back to engineering!" he yelled at Sheppard who nodded.

But before he could make it past the bridge door, the shields failed altogether. He looked out the forward viewport just as two of the Ori motherships fired on the Daedalus, point blank. He only had a second to look at John before

* * *

_Part Three -- Rev. 13:9_

 

Let me tell you a story.

Millions of years ago, four advanced races found each other. They were all at about the same level of technology, though each of them were at different spiritual levels. Remember that; it's important.

The Alterans were those who sought more spirituality and delved deeper into the unseen, into the exigencies of faith. They eventually found a way to ascend, which they thought was their next evolutionary step. Although they were sort of correct in the evolutionary step thing, the rest of it? They got it wrong. Badly wrong. Because they thought once they ascended, they would live forever as forms of light, secure and happy. Heaven, if you will. 

It was a long time before any of them figured it out. So long that the eldest of them had already dissipated, evaporated, discorporated, left the theater... whatever. It turns out that ascension wasn't heaven after all, and instead of living forever, secure in vast, almost omniscient knowledge, you would just fade away into nothingness after a while. It was a _long_ while, but still. Clearly not 'heaven.'

There were two groups among the ascended who finally realized this. One decided to take energy from those still living and so prolong their existence. They called themselves the Ori and went on a hunt for more worshippers to drain of energy. The second group, now called the Ancients, took one, horrified look at the Ori and decided to leave their offspring alone, to let them be. They developed a tenet of noninterference and ended up carrying it far too well, a little too far, even as they began to melt away. 

Actually, there were three groups, but the third group arose solely from the Ancients. It was this sub-group who figured it out, these few ascended beings were the ones who realized the one great secret -- death is a gift. Humans aren't supposed to live forever in a semi-corporeal state, they are meant to live their lives, however long or short those lives are, and then to stop, to die. To move on. 

To move on... where? Well, that's a good question, one that hasn't been answered. And it might never be answered. But it's not ascension. As you can guess, those who realized this one great secret weren't exactly popular among their fellow ascended. Nor were they able to kill themselves; when they tried, nothing happened.

I will tell you this: the Furlings, one of the four great races, figured it out before Humans did. They're gone now. I leave it to the student to make any inference there. Meanwhile, the Asgard have not reproduced in millennia and have grown stagnant. The Nox -- well, the Nox keep to themselves, but they haven't really got it either. Yet.

I will tell you this, too: Humans, those who were born on Earth and sometimes called the Tau'ri, aren't the descendants of the Alterans, the Ancients. Oh, there's been some mingling of bodily fluids down the line, but no: Earthlings, Terrans, are not the children of the Ancients. And that, more than anything else, will be Humanity's salvation.

* * *

"What the hell?"

"It's a diner," Jackson said. "My grandfather brought me here after the death of my parents. Oma brought me here to talk to me about my second ascension, so it was... convenient. So to speak." He smiled. "You want some coffee, McKay?"

"I don't get it. What just happened here?"

"You'd already figured it out, Sheppard. Well, you and McKay." Jackson poured him a cup of coffee. "I _am_ the weapon, as long as you count truth as a weapon. I had to be ascended to use it."

"Is the Daedalus..."

"Yeah, but only for a little while." Daniel gently pulled her down to the stool next to his, kept one of her hands in his. "Sam, everything's going to be fine. It's going to be better than fine, actually. No more Ori, no more ascended fruitcakes running amok and messing with people's heads."

"I do not understand, Daniel Jackson."

"Well, you're not alone, I'm not sure I really understand it." Daniel grimaced as he rubbed the back of his neck. "You know some of the things an ascended being is capable of. There's more to it, though, more than you'd ever believe. It's no wonder the ascended wanted to play god, because ascension made them almost as powerful as gods."

"So where did they go? I mean, the Ori, the Ancients, any of those clowns?"

"They're... hmm. I think the right word is dead, though it's more than that, and less." Jackson sighed. "McKay, there are some things you have to take on faith. One of them is that ascension isn't the be-all and end-all of everything. It's an evolutionary leap, maybe, but it's not Humanity's proper path. We're mortal, we're destined to die, to live our lives and then move on." He blew out a frustrated breath. "The Ori... they never got that and never, ever would. So I encouraged them to find their own truth since mine was so repugnant to them. You ever hear the phrase 'and the truth will set you free'? Well, the truth did a bit more than that to them."

"That goes against... damn, pretty much everything I've ever heard! I think, anyway."

"Actually, it doesn't. You religious, Sheppard?" He waited for Sheppard's head shake before continuing. "But I bet you were raised at least partially religious. I've studied... God. Feels like thousands of them. But in every one was a central belief that once you died, you moved on. You went to heaven, you went to hell, you were reincarnated along the great kharmic wheel, you went to the underworld or one of many places... it doesn't matter. The essential thing is that you died and you went somewhere. Died, not ascended. There's something more than ascension, and anyone not ready to go there, well, it doesn't matter. The Ori are now finding out what, exactly, lies beyond ascension." He frowned. "And there's a big part of me that wants it to be really, really painful for them."

"How do I know this is real, that any of this is real?"

"Sam..." Daniel looked into Sam's eyes and saw the confusion, the pain. He could feel it, too. "How deep is the river if you cannot see the bottom?" Daniel smiled at her eye-roll. "Okay, okay. Let's try this one. Do you remember when you read the Silmarillion and we argued over it? Turns out you were right, Sam. Death _is_ a gift. It's the gift to Humanity, to die and let the spirit, the soul, go elsewhere. I don't know where elsewhere is, but eventually, I'll find out. Ascended or not, I will die some day."

"Daniel Jackson, you speak of not leaving here. You will not be with us?"

Daniel sighed. "No, Teal'c. I'm staying here. Someone's got to. Someone has to stay and make sure no other Ori characters pop up. Someone has to stay here and make sure we don't get shafted again. I think I've got ample reason to be a little pissed... okay, a _lot_ pissed off. If you take all the things that have been thrown at me over the last few years, it's probably a miracle that I'm not a homicidal maniac as it is."

"That's... no. That's not right. You're going to stay here forever just because--"

"Don't, McKay. Rodney. Seriously, it's fine." Jackson sighed again. "Well, no, I lied. It's not all right, but someone has to do it. Someone has to stick around and make sure it doesn't happen again. And to tell you the truth, I wouldn't trust anyone to do it but me."

"But... you're going to be alone. We'll have to leave you because we sure as shit don't know how to get back to you..."

"I know." Jackson swallowed hard. "But it's not like I can't visit, every now and then. I just can't take on a real body again, because I'm not sure I'll be able to ascend voluntarily again. I mean, I had to die in order to get here, and even then, it was a struggle. I don't want to take a chance I'll miss it again."

"Daniel... I don't..."

"Sam. Sam, it's okay." Daniel wiped her tears away with a gentle touch. He held her face in his hands and looked deeply into her eyes. "Sam, you've got to listen to me now. You've been defining yourself by others for way too long. You have to start living for yourself, putting yourself first. You can still have everything you want, Sam, it's still all there waiting for you." He gave her a small smile. "Say hello to Jack and Vala for me, when you get there. Tell 'em... tell them to wait for me. That I'll be along. Eventually."

"I will miss you, Daniel Jackson."

"I'll check up on you, every now and then. I swear, Teal'c, I will. Be good, buddy. You still have a long road to walk, but there are those who will help you. Your family may not have been human to begin with, but it's human now. And your people have the gift of death too. It'll be all right."

* * *

_First Epilogue: Rev. 11:3_

 

"Hi."

Cam's head whipped around at the sound of the voice and his eyes grew wide. "Daniel?"

Daniel just smiled. Cam walked over and embraced him, slapping him on the back. "God, I thought you..."

"I am." Daniel waved his hand and the scene around them shifted from Cam's office at the new SGC headquarters to the 'gate room. 

"Wait a minute..." He gave Daniel a narrow-eyed stare. "I'm dreaming this, aren't I?"

"Eh, so to speak." Daniel shrugged. "I'm pretty much non-corporeal these days, so visiting in dreams is easier for everybody. Well, most everybody, anyway."

Cam's face cleared. "Oh. Sam."

"Yeah. Mistake there." It had been a mistake, a monstrous one. Sam had wept and clung and he didn't know how to deal with her like that. He'd visited Teal'c immediately afterwards and was reassured when Teal'c promised to look in on Sam.

"She's... she's changed, bro." Cam was fidgety so Daniel created a couple of overstuffed, comfortable Laz-E-Boy recliners and they both sat. "I'm used to seeing her so competent, so in-control..."

"I think it was Jack's death that really messed up her head. She kept asking me if he was really dead, if I couldn't bring him back, if _I_ could come back." He sighed. "I can't Cam, not any of it."

"I know. Shep told me all about it. Can't say as I envy you." He looked across at Daniel. "Hey, did you know that Shep's with McKay? Now, _there's_ a miracle."

"Nah. Rodney's okay once you get to know him. Seriously."

They stared at each other for a while before Cam spoke again, dragging the subject back to Jack and Vala. "You can't bring them back, can you." It wasn't a question.

"No. They died. I was going to tell Sam that Jack only really died once -- he died the first time and when they 'resurrected' him, it wasn't really him. Same with Vala. She didn't want to listen, she's not ready to listen, yet."

"But we might see them again, after our number comes up, right?"

"Yeah. I really do believe that. God, there's so much... so damn much information. It was all there, for everyone who'd ever ascended -- it's like... a central library, where every prior experience for every sentient being in the universe lives. It's amazing and they just wouldn't look. And even if they did, they refused to believe."

"Well, there were some what did," Cam drawled. He took a long pull from his beer bottle, then looked at it in surprise. "The good stuff, too. Thanks. And anyway, there were a few. Merlin, that Morgana woman."

"Yeah. But you wanna hear a funny?"

"What?"

"Oma didn't." Daniel gave Cam a long look, and knew how much sorrow he had on his face. "I thought... I thought she'd be one of the few going voluntarily. But she fought me." And oh, how much he'd hated that. The pain and accusation he felt in her as he...

"Damn. That sucks, Daniel."

"Yeah." Daniel sighed. "Anyway, I just wanted to drop in and say hi, to ask you to keep looking after Sam."

"I will, you didn't need to ask. Teal'c and I will work on her a bit. Get her out more. Maybe she should  move to Atlantis, start fresh. A lot of people are."

"So I understand. I need to hop over there and check things out, I guess."

Cam got a strange expression on his face, as if he were hearing something far away. Daniel smiled. "It's your alarm. Bye, Cam."

"Hey!" Cam said as Daniel began to melt away. "You come back and see me, you hear?"

Daniel smiled. "Just try to keep me away, Cameron Mitchell," he said.

* * *

_Second Epilogue -- Rev. 19:11_

 

John woke slowly, for a change. Things had been so frantic, so overwhelmingly busy since their return to Atlantis he sometimes felt he didn't have time to breathe. Though they couldn't afford to take even one whole day yet, John had managed to get them an evening and morning off. Then he'd turned off their alarm and hadn't told Rodney.

So many things going on, so many things to do. They'd had to set up a committee to handle applications for admission to the Republic of Atlantis when John, Rodney and Elizabeth fell so far behind it wasn't even funny. Now that Earth was saved from the Ori and had a 'gate again, they were inundated by hopeful people from all over Earth and from both galaxies, including the Genii homeworld and he still wasn't sure how he felt about that. 

Among the first to immigrate was Rodney's family -- Jeannie, Kaleb, Madison and Matthew. They were now set up in an apartment two floors above John and Rodney. 

When Mitchell showed up on Earth with an Asgard battalion -- along with Landry and a bunch of other people they thought were buried under Cheyenne Mountain -- things actually got easier. They rebuilt the Antarctic base and the SGC moved there, on what was probably the only ground on Earth not completely claimed. The Asgard set up beaming sites that allowed the SGC people to come and go easily. Landry and Mitchell had it all under control; it was a sweet setup they had down there, better than the mountain had ever been.

And public. There was no sense in trying to pretend the Ori had been anything else but an invasion from 'outer space.' Most people took it pretty well, but those Asgard groupies were something he didn't really want to think about.

As it turned out, Earth hadn't suffered too badly at the hands of the Ori. True, Colorado was mostly gone, as were good chunks of Beijing and New York City. But on the whole, the Priors had found Earth to be a difficult place to subdue, not to mention a damned huge place to tame. The U.S. had borne the brunt of the attack, unsurprisingly. And there were still Priors at large, but John didn't think it would take them long to be smoked out. They were merely men, now. Highly unpopular men.

John's favorite octopus physicist jerked slightly, and his arms tightened around John. That good ol' morning hard-on was poking John in the ass and he thought he might get lucky -- which was something else they never seemed to have time for any more.

"Rodney?" he whispered, but got only a still-asleep, faint grunt in reply. Okay, he could wait a bit longer. He really hated those days that started with him prying Rodney's arms away.

He ran through his schedule in his mind. They didn't have to be 'at work' until midday, but there were still dozens of things to do. Settlement of newcomers, checking and opening of new residence quarters, approval of immigrants, check-up on the rapidly diminishing Wraith fleet. They'd blown up about twenty, so far -- twenty ghost ships, inhabited by dead Wraith. On four occasions, they'd managed to free cocooned humans. John had put Ronon on the detail to seek out Wraith vessels and liberate any humans before destroying them.

Nukes were the one thing they had in spades. 

The mainland and the beta agrarian sites were ramping up to full speed. With the ZPMs they had -- and the SGC rapidly produced four more, mostly empty but now refillable -- they could afford frequent 'gate travel back and forth. The Genii were suddenly their very best buddies; he could say many things about Ladon Radim but being politically suicidal was not one of them. John was just glad Rodney managed to really kill Kolya before everything started.

The Daedalus stayed in the Milky Way, hunting down the last of the Ori Priors, aided by the Jaffa who'd managed to hide and the Asgard. Just the other day, Mitchell told John that the Nox, apparently urged on by Jackson, were willing to open a limited dialogue with Earth. Apparently Humanity was moving right along, then. 

Rodney shifted slightly but his even, gentle snores didn't change. Why he liked sleeping in that way mystified John -- Rodney's face had to be buried in John's hair and the arm underneath John's body had to be numb. But for some reason the big jerk preferred it. And, though John would never admit it aloud, he liked it too. He could reliably say that he felt loved and needed when Rodney had him in a death grip. 

The sunlight slanted just a little higher on the ceiling and John took a deep breath. Yeah. They were going to be fine.

"I love you," he whispered in a barely there voice. So he couldn't say it loud, in front of anyone else -- he could still say it. And that was the important thing.

* * *

Rodney had his nose buried in John's hair. It always smelled so good and he knew that John didn't really put anything on it -- it was naturally spazzy. Sort of like John.

His left arm, buried under John, was mostly numb but that was okay. It'd come back to life soon enough. And it appeared that John had turned off their alarm, since it was far later than normal for them. Good, they might have time for a quickie, or even a longie. It wasn't like they had been awake enough for anything the evening before. Just sleeping in was a luxury.

Rodney went through his 'to do' list and remembered the biggest one -- processing Sam Carter's immigration papers. He'd talked with Cam Mitchell and Teal'c and knew she was on the verge of falling apart. He'd have to get John and Kate to help him work on her. They'd get her better, she'd be okay. She was strong.

The hair under his nose shifted slightly and he heard, so softly voiced that he could have missed it easily -- "I love you." 

Rodney smiled. Yeah. They were gonna be _fine_.

* * *

_Third Epilogue -- Rev. 16:17 -- Several hundred thousand years later:_

 

Naseen Moer was a trial to her family. She was very intelligent and because of this, she asked questions constantly. Mere answers were never enough for her, she wanted more, always more.

When she grew in age and in intelligence, she began to ask even harder questions. When no one she knew had the answers, she began to ask others, then began to travel the stargate road to seek even more answers, which sometimes led to more questions. On a world many years distant from her home, she thought she'd found the answer to all -- one word: Ascension.

Once the answer was before her, Naseen struggled with the physical, meditated relentlessly, working so hard to get to that higher plane. She knew it would be there, she knew she could go there, to finally see What Lay Beyond and discover the answers to all her questions, even the ones unasked. After many years, she closed her eyes for the last time and floated away, became weightless, emptied her vessel of flesh to become Light.

Peaceful beyond measure, she breathed deeply and opened her eyes, only to find herself in a strange place. There were many tables, a strange, hard, parti-colored floor, and something that smelled like food coming from beyond a perforated barrier. There was one person present, a man, sitting at the long counter on a stool which looked to be bolted to the floor. As she stood there, he turned and smiled. It was a kind smile. He was a kind-looking man, for all he wore strange clothes.

"There you are," he said, and she had the feeling he was not speaking in her language at all, for all she understood him. 

"Where am I?" Naseen asked, confused but still filled with the lightness that was herself.

"You've Ascended," the stranger replied. "Come, sit. I'll give you something to drink. Are you hungry?"

"I do not know," Naseen replied. Then her stomach growled and they both laughed.

"I'll get you some waffles and coffee. You'll feel better once you've eaten."

She sat on one of the stools and he fed her, gave her drink. It was very good, though strange to her. As she ate, she studied the man who stood before her. He appeared to be, at once, old and young. There was an air of ancient sorrow about him and his face looked so very familiar...

The last bite of food dropped with her fork, to clatter on her plate. "You are the Jacksome!" she said, in a whisper. For he bore the face of the one who whispered the word of Ascension to her, the one she'd come to realize was the man who had defeated the ancient ones, who tried to rule the universe and who had, thankfully, failed. Because of him.

"Is that what they're calling me now?" He snorted and shook his head. "Call me Daniel."

Naseem rose from her stool and began to make obeisance, but he hurried around the counter and pulled her upright again. "None of that," he growled. "I'm just like you. Never bow to anyone your equal. Actually, just never, ever bow to anyone."

She was confused. "But... but... you are the Jacksome! You are the Guardian, a god!"

"I'm no god," he said, pushing her back to her seat on the stool. He sat next to her. "I'm merely me, Daniel Jackson. A human like you who figured out how to ascend. That's all."

"Then..." she looked around, confused. "This is not heaven?"

He laughed, a short, sad sound. "Hardly. Trust me on this, Naseem, I'm just like you. Only... older."

"If you are not a god, then how is it you know my name?" she asked.

He laughed again, this time with genuine mirth. "You're quick! That's good, that's very good. You're going to need that."

His words were worse than the hardest riddle to her. "And if this is not heaven, then where is heaven? If you are not a god, where are they? I came seeking them... didn't I?" she asked, suddenly unsure.

"Good, good... keep asking questions. Never, ever stop. This is not heaven, heaven lies somewhere beyond here. I think. I don't actually know, you see, because I've been waiting here, watching. Guarding."

"You are the Guardian," she said, nodding. "I know that. But of what?"

He put his hand on her arm; his touch felt warm and alive and she suddenly knew he was right. He was just like her. Only older. "Guarding against the false gods, those who would enslave all of us, just because they've learned a parlor trick. I've been waiting a very, very long time for you, Naseem." His eyes filled with sorrow. "Because of you, I will finally find out if there's anything beyond this. Because of you, I'll finally..." He swallowed and she had an urge to comfort him, to hold him. He was really very old, and his loneliness could fill a star. "I can finally retire. And maybe see all my friends and family again. I hope."

Naseem put her little hand over his. "I will help you," she vowed.

He stood and embraced her. "Yes, you will, because I can't do it on my own, you have to push me. I should feel more guilty about leaving this on your head, but I can't. I'm so tired, Naseem. So very tired."

Her words carried the weight of Truth. "Rest. I will stand Guard."

"Thank you," he said, with a sad smile. "Thank you so much." He reached out and tucked a bit of her hair behind her ear, then kissed her forehead in benediction. "Let me give you the quarter tour before you help me leave, then. Before I leave, finally."

end

**Author's Note:**

> These are the verses I used in And There Was War in Heaven. All are drawn from the Book of Revelation, most taken from the KJE, some from the online Bible project.  
> ************  
> 1:3: Blessed is the one who reads the words of this prophecy aloud, and blessed are those who hear and obey the things written in it, because the time is near!
> 
> 8:1: Now when the Lamb opened the seventh seal there was silence in heaven for about half an hour.
> 
> 11:3: And I will grant my two witnesses authority to prophesy for 1,260 days (three and a half years), dressed in sackcloth.
> 
> 12:1: Then a great sign appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun, and with the moon under her feet, and on her head was a crown of twelve stars.
> 
> 12:7 through 12:8: Then war broke out in heaven: Michael and his angels fought against the dragon, and the dragon and his angels fought back. But the dragon was not strong enough to prevail, so there was no longer any place left in heaven for him and his angels. 
> 
> 13:9: If any man have an ear, let him hear.
> 
> 13:11 through 13:12: Then I saw another beast coming up from the earth. He had two horns like a lamb, but was speaking like a dragon. He exercised all the ruling authority of the first beast on his behalf, and made the earth and those who inhabit it worship the first beast, the one whose lethal wound had been healed.
> 
> 16:8 through 16:9: Then the fourth angel poured out his bowl on the sun, and it was permitted to scorch people with fire. Thus people were scorched by the terrible heat, yet they blasphemed the name of God, who has ruling authority over these plagues, and they would not repent and give him glory.
> 
> 16:17: Finally the seventh angel poured out his bowl into the air and a loud voice came out of the temple from the throne, saying: "It is done!"
> 
> 19:11: Then I saw heaven opened and here came a white horse! The one riding it was called "Faithful" and "True," and with justice he judges and goes to war.


End file.
